


When You Least Expect It

by Lyds and Ally (thunderandlightning)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Rare Pairings, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-13
Updated: 2018-06-17
Packaged: 2019-02-14 05:25:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 11
Words: 51,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13000782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderandlightning/pseuds/Lyds%20and%20Ally
Summary: Stiles and Allison are best friends and teachers at Beacon Hills High School. Even though everyone seems to think they're together, that's the last thing they want. Attraction gets complicated, especially when they're surrounded by teenagers all day.(A soulmate mark origin story.)Formerly titled Holidazed.





	1. Monday, December 4th

Stiles smiled to himself as he finished stapling a garland to the wall of his classroom. He taught teenagers, even though he had hoped for an elementary school job. The teacher who was supposed to retire and free up a job for him had decided to hold off for another year, and there was only one job opening in the entire county, so he jumped at the chance. He was about to turn thirty and had no fear of ever being fired. It gave him the freedom to do things like come to school in costume on Halloween or specifically schedule his lessons so that Romeo and Juliet was _never_ covered on Valentine’s Day, despite one principal cooing over how great that love story was. Somehow, she hadn’t lasted very long. He eyed the placement of the garland, then got ornament-shaped pieces of construction paper out of his messenger bag and sat on the edge of his desk, pushing at the Santa hat he was wearing in an effort to keep it from falling over his eyes. 

“Hey, hey.” Allison greeted, poking her head in the doorway. “It’s looking pretty good in here.” She told him. Her own classroom was almost sparse, and she hadn’t even given thought to decorating yet. She would eventually - maybe she could convince her students to decorate with her. Unlikely. The freshmen might be enthusiastic about it, at least. 

Stiles smiled over at her. “Thanks. They probably won’t even care. I already had to deal with a few of the usual ‘why are you wearing a costume, that’s for kids’ crap I get every year. I’m thinking of making a Grinch corner, right over there.” He pointed to one of the front corners of the room. “And the lucky student or students that sit there will be horrified by how they don’t get candy while everyone else does.” 

Allison snorted out a laugh. “Maybe it would do them some good, getting singled out like that. Put them back in that mindframe when Mom and Dad used to put them in time-out.”

Stiles laughed. “You really don’t have anything decorative in your classroom?” He shook his head at her, teasing. “No red or green chalk or markers?” 

Allison’s eyes lit up. “Oh, that’s a good idea. But no, I really don’t.” She sighed. “I don’t think most of my kids would think it was enjoyable. Might make some of them outright uncomfortable.” She paused, and then grinned slowly. “Which actually gives me more of a reason to do it.”

“You’re finally getting it.” Stiles grinned. “We’re supposed to be making them miserable and having fun at the same time. Not the other way around.” 

Allison laughed. “Come shopping with me later for appropriately embarrassing decorations to mortify high schoolers?”

“Absolutely.” Stiles nodded. “Your classroom is going to look like reindeer barfed all over the place.” He laughed. “Maybe during lunch?” 

Allison nodded as well. “Sounds good. See, this is why you’re my work bestie. There’s no one else here with as devious a mind as you.”

“I’m going to see that as a compliment.” Stiles smiled. “Even though it sounds like it crosses the line.” He glanced at the clock over the door. “Okay, bell’s going to ring. I think you should do a couple of laps around the building before you start your day.” He laughed. “Just when they start to think they’ll have a free period, you’ll come in and make them upset.” 

“Fifteen minute grace period.” Allison crowed. “I love your brilliant head.” She grabbed said head, rose onto the tips of her toes and smacked a kiss right on the top. “I enjoy ruining hopes and dreams just as much as I love bolstering them.”

Stiles smiled and readjusted his hat again, waving to Allison as a few of his students started coming in to sit down. He turned his attention to the red and green circles in his hands, thinking of holiday shopping and traditions. He had an appreciation for just about every holiday, even the ones that he didn’t celebrate. 

“Hey, Mister S.” Scott greeted, waving his hand at the teacher with a smile. “Nice decorating.”

“Thanks, Scott.” Stiles nodded to the teenager. “Red or green?” 

“Uh.” Scott blinked. “Red?” He replied slowly, like he thought it was a trick question.

Stiles grinned and stood up, setting a red paper on Scott’s desk. “Write down something you want for Christmas. Or, uh, the winter holiday. If you don’t celebrate Christmas.”

Scott brightened and dragged the paper closer to him, scrawling words quickly across it. ‘New guitar picks and a strap.’

Erica looked curiously over Scott’s shoulder, and then looked up at Stiles. “Can I get a green one, Mister S?”

Stiles nodded to Erica and gave her a green ornament-shaped piece of paper. He eyed the stack in his hands, then started putting the rest of the papers down on the desks, alternating red and green at random. 

The room was mostly silent, save for some muttering as students began writing and peeking at each other’s papers for ideas. Eventually, the scratching of pencils trailed off, and nearly two dozen pairs of eyes were peering at Stiles expectantly. “What next?” Jackson asked, staring at the older man.

“Now I collect the papers and put them up around the room, for tomorrow.” Stiles smiled. “And then you’ll come in and pick one gift you can give, and get credit for taking a paper. I want you to write about it, too. Three paragraphs. One, why you chose the gift request you picked. Two, how you filled the request. Three, who you think your gift is for, and why you think that person wanted that item. Extra credit if you write another paper, due date to be determined, about your gift recipient and how your perceptions about that person might have changed. Also, uh, include how your perceptions changed about the person you thought you were buying for.” He paused. “If, for any reason, you can’t participate in this assignment? See me and we’ll talk about alternatives.” 

Scott nodded brightly, smiling up at Stiles. “Cool. Well, I’m in, don’t worry about me.” 

Erica snorted out a laugh. “Obviously you’re in, you dork, you already wrote out what you wanted on the sheet.”

“I meant the wish-fulfillment aspect.” Stiles explained, laughing. “I don’t have a whole lot planned today, so maybe we can just talk about the next couple of things we’re reading and our favorite Christmas stories or movies?” He suggested. 

One of the students gave Stiles a calculating look. “Can we _watch_ our favorite Christmas movies and read our favorite stories?” He asked.

“That depends on a few things.” Stiles murmured. “If you all manage to get your essays and gifts in by the end of this week, then we’ll spend the next two weeks watching and reading your favorite holiday things. But within reason. No weird Christmas porn allowed. I don’t feel like getting fired for any of you.” 

Erica grinned playfully at Stiles, leaning forward and propping her chin on her fist. “You’re no fun, Mister S.” She crooned.

“I’m fun.” Stiles protested. “Just not the kind of fun that could be me fired or arrested. You want to watch things or read things that aren’t appropriate for the classroom, that’s none of my business.” 

Erica pouted, her lower lip jutting out, but she inclined her head in acknowledgement. “Oh, fine.” She laughed.

Jackson stared at her for a moment, and then went right back to staring at Stiles thoughtfully. “Do Field of Dreams and Miracle count as Christmas movies?”

“Not Field of Dreams.” Stiles shook his head. “Not Miracle, either. Unless it’s Miracle on Thirty-Fourth Street. I will, however, be requesting to show Die Hard.” 

Jackson, who’d started to sit back with a scowl, cocked his head to the side. He nodded after a moment. “I accept your request.”

“I’m glad you agree with me, but I’m not asking you. I have to talk it over with the principal here and make sure I’m not going to get into trouble over the fact that Bruce Willis says ‘motherfucker’ at least once.” Stiles smirked. “Because, you know. Teenagers never hear language like that.” 

“I don’t know what you could possibly mean.” Jackson replied primly, his own lips twitching as he lifted his chin in the air.

Stiles grinned. “What are your favorite holiday movies? We’ll start there, then talk about books, next.” 

There were several students piping up, then, with answers ranging from ‘Elf’ to ‘A Christmas Carol’ to ‘How the Grinch Stole Christmas’ (“The cartoon one, not the kinda creepy live-action one with Jim Carrey,” the student explained to Stiles earnestly).

“Yeah, well, nobody likes that.” Stiles snorted. He had written down all of their responses, deciding that he would narrow them down later and take the final list to the administration. “What about books or stories?” 

Not as many suggestions came this time. Erica hesitated before she said out loud, “The Polar Express.”

“A Christmas Carol?” Scott added, glancing at Erica uncertainly.

“Those are good.” Stiles smiled to encourage everyone. “This week, we’ll do the essays and gift-giving. Next week, we’re reading The Little Match Girl, Gift of the Magi, a couple of other stories I haven’t decided on yet, and then we’ll spend the week after that watching movies, provided everyone gets their work done on time. That includes the gift-giving. So I’ll give an update on Wednesday, then again on Thursday. And just so you know, you might be buying for someone in a different class. I’m not putting names on these, but I am keeping track for myself, so I know who to give credit to and who gets my disapproval. And for the next few weeks, anyone being a Grinch has to sit in the corner of the room while the rest of us communicate and you might find yourself with a zero for the day, unless you can convince me not to give you one. Be happy, you’re about to have three weeks off from school!” 

“Woo!” Greenberg cheered from the back of the room, throwing his hands in the air.

Scott let out a snort. He looked up at Stiles. “We’ll - well, I’ll - do my best, teach.”

Stiles nodded. He glanced at the clock and realized they had barely used half of the class period. He faltered. It wasn’t the first time he had planned poorly for a class, but he knew he was better than this. “Okay, since we’re not doing much of anything else today, write down something about your favorite holiday. It doesn’t have to be Christmas. It can even be your birthday. Just write until the bell rings.” 

Cora sat silently in her chair in the back, one arm folded around her stomach as her fingers tapped at her sheet of paper. She didn’t write anything down - she couldn’t think of anything to write, and she scowled a little, slumping down in her seat.

Stiles wandered around the room, stopping by Cora. “No favorite holidays?” He asked quietly. 

Cora’s scowl deepened and she shook her head without looking up at Stiles. “Nope.” She muttered back, her voice just as quiet. 

“Hmm.” Stiles felt a little guilty, since he knew all too well that not everyone had a happy life at home. Years of reading his dad’s files, even though he wasn’t supposed to, had made that clear to him. “Is it too much to ask for you to write about your least favorite holiday?” He bit his lip, then decided to go for broke and try to lighten the mood she was in. “I’m pretty sure, with all the holidays that there are now, there’s probably a socks and sandals day. I know that would be one of my least favorites, but mostly because you can’t really show off your socks unless you wear shorts, and then you need the right kind of shirt to wear and basically, before you know it, you’ve got a beret and you’re playing golf, right?” 

Cora snorted out a laugh despite herself, raising her eyes up to look at Stiles thoughtfully. “I don’t like berets. I think the people that wear them are pretentious idiots that want to seem like they’re exotic, but they really just come off as snobby douchebags. And golf is for people who want to think they’re elite.”

Stiles nodded. “So obviously, socks and sandals day is your least favorite holiday, then. Write that down. Write down anything about someone you know that plays golf or wears socks with sandals. Or even something about someone you think might do those things. I don’t care if you make the whole thing up and it turns out that the beret-wearing douchebag is an alien from Pluto. Write.” 

Cora furrowed her brows and gave him a small, slightly strained but appreciative smile. “Okay.” She murmured, and put her pen to paper, Stiles’ presence slipping out of her attention. 

Stiles smiled to himself and wandered around the room again, careful not to read over anyone’s shoulder because he hated when people did that to him. When the bell rang, he started making stacks of the assigned papers and paper ornaments, making a note of who submitted their holiday gift request. He had an idea for what he might get Allison, so long as she agreed to the rule he was going to put into place. 

Cora lagged behind the other students as much as she could, lingering until the room was empty of everyone save herself and Stiles. She didn’t open up to anyone, but Stiles was a special exception, mostly because he was her teacher, but also because she liked to think that he genuinely gave a damn. “Um… so I don’t - really have any favorite holidays because I… kind of lost enthusiasm for them after my parents died.” She said quietly. “And… it’s the third anniversary on Friday. So things aren’t… going well at home.”

“I understand that.” Stiles nodded. “I mean, I can’t fully understand your situation. I know that. But I lost my mom when I was pretty young, and holidays just didn’t feel the same for awhile. They still don’t. But I’ve had time to adjust, and now my goal is to try to make other people appreciate them more. Even if that means showing up dressed as a Ninja Turtle and finding out that the other three teachers who were _supposed_ to be the rest of the Turtles chickened out, the bastards.” He huffed in frustration, then shrugged one shoulder at her. “I’m supposed to probably tell you that if you want to sit in the library while we’re doing all of this holiday shit, you can. But really, I don’t think isolating yourself is going to help. I’m not going to tell you to smile and be jolly. Fuck being jolly.” He said bluntly. “I’m also not supposed to tell you to ditch school, but if I was having a rough day because my asshole teacher decided to remind me of how I’m feeling? I’d ditch. And I’d think about all of the good times and try to be happy that I got to have them. See, my mom loved Halloween and April Fool’s Day. She loved playing pranks. So I celebrate her favorite days and they’ve become some of my favorites. I didn’t stop living, even though she did. It’ll get easier in time. I know that sounds like crap. I’m sorry that you’re going through this. I can’t even - apologizing sounds wrong to me, too. Words don’t always help. Swearing helps. Sometimes.” He smiled gently. “So if you wanna leave the building and go home and mourn, and tell everyone in your way to fuck off, do that. But don’t tell them I said to say it.” 

Cora had a small smile on her face by the time Stiles finished speaking. “That sounds good.” She murmured. “I wouldn’t mind doing that, actually. I’m dealing badly, but my brother and sister are… kind of crappy at dealing at all.” She tucked her bag over her shoulder, studying him. “For the record, I don’t think you’re an asshole. Harris is an asshole. I’m pretty sure you’re one of the only ones in this school that gives a shit.”

“Maybe I’m both.” Stiles laughed. “If you want to just email things in, I’ll talk to your other teachers for you. I mean, yeah, Harris is who he is. So I don’t see that going well. But everyone else should be fine with it.”

Cora nodded and smiled again, appreciatively. “Thanks, Mister S. You’re right, there’s no changing Harris, but… thanks for trying for me. I appreciate it.”

Stiles nodded back and got up to put more papers on the desks, for his next class. He reached up to scratch at his scalp, catching the Santa hat before it fell. 

Cora snorted out a laugh. “I’ll see you later,” she told him, giving him a little wave with her unoccupied hand before she turned and started toward the door. 

At lunch, Stiles took off the Santa hat as he walked out to his Jeep. He looked around for Allison and checked his text messages, in case she had canceled. He thought back to his own high school years, which somehow felt both like last week and an eternity ago. Lacrosse hadn’t been an option at Beacon Hills High School back then; baseball had been the sport he played. He had a few friends back then, but they had lost touch during college, and the friends he had made in college lost touch with him afterward, too. He was incredibly grateful for Allison being around, since she kept him from being a complete loner.

Allison jogged across the parking lot, clutching her bag and waving a hand at him. “I’m here! I’m here, I didn’t forget, I just got cornered by awkward and inappropriate teenage flirting.”

Stiles’ lips quirked. “Jackson again?” He guessed. “He’s got some soul-searching he needs to do.”

Allison groaned. “No, I almost wish it was Jackson this time.” She reached for the passenger side door of the Jeep. “At least then I don’t feel bad about turning him down, for God’s sake. No, this time it was Scott ‘Puppy Dog Eyes’ McCall.” She looked back at Stiles miserably. “I feel so _bad_ every time I have to remind him that even just contemplating it could get me fired. He just looks so _sad_ , it’s not fair. Like, what the hell were the Powers that Be thinking when they created him? ‘We need a human being combined with a dog with the most adorably heartbreaking eyes, in order to make anyone that hurts him feel terrible for the rest of their lives.’”

“Scott seems like a nice kid. Emphasis on kid, though.” Stiles got into the Jeep. “He isn’t worth a prison sentence. If you want him badly enough? He’ll be eighteen eventually. Of course, by then he’ll probably be with someone his own age.”

Allison shook her head. “I’m not risking it, not even once he’s eighteen. It isn’t happening.” She sighed and pulled open the Jeep door, sliding into the passenger’s seat and bouncing once. 

Stiles laughed. “Why do you always do that?” He started the Jeep as he glanced over at her. “You feel remorse at telling him no, so you do want him. At least a little bit. I think you know by now that it’s not coming up in conversation with my dad. I mean, I’d never pursue anyone under eighteen. But I do wonder sometimes which ones will come back to see us, you know? For whatever reason. I’m surprised the road isn’t still on fire from how fast I got out of here, after I graduated. I hadn’t planned on coming back, but then it felt like the right thing to do.”

Allison sighed. “I know. There are times when I think that maybe I should’ve just stayed in Seattle, but this stupid place just…” She made a face, and then looked over at Stiles, leaning her head against the seat. “Maybe I do want him a little. But I shouldn’t. He’s my student. It’s… straight up wrong in so many ways, whether he’s legal or not. I don’t want to be that person, Stiles.”

“I don’t think the people who are those people want to be, either.” Stiles pointed out. “And it’s not like you’re perving on all of your male students. Scott isn’t the typical teen, I know that. I think if I ever encountered anyone that didn’t make me want to force them to eat chalk, I’d be in your situation. But it would be worse for me, because when I get attracted to someone, it’s almost like an addiction.” 

“An addiction?” Allison repeated, smiling faintly. “So… like, you’re always thinking about them, waiting to see them, going out of your way to find them? That sorta thing?”

“Memorizing their schedule, figuring out what shampoo they use, listening to music they like. Uh, other details that nobody but a lover should know about someone.” Stiles shrugged, smiling crookedly. “That’s probably why you’re the only friend I have. Everyone else thinks I’m a creep.” 

Allison rolled her eyes and patted his hand affectionately, smiling. “You’re not a creep. I definitely don’t think you’re a creep. I think you hoard knowledge - of any kind - like Scrooge McDuck hoards gold, that’s all.”

“Oh, that reminds me.” Stiles blurted. “I thought you might appreciate this idea because it sort of combines history and literature? I don’t know if you’re planning on getting me a Christmas present, but I was thinking of getting you one. I have a stipulation, though.” He smiled. 

Allison straightened and lifted her eyebrows in interest. “Oh? What sort of stipulation?” She asked.

“You can only spend a dollar and eighty-seven cents.” Stiles smiled. “I’m making my classes read The Gift of the Magi and I thought the amount of money that Della had to start with would make things interesting. You could spend that money on something to use to make or buy something else, though. Be creative.” 

Allison looked thoughtfully to the side. “Hmm. I wonder if there’s a nickel-and-dime store around here somewhere.” She squinted at Stiles. “You’re on.”

Stiles’ grin widened. “Good. This is going to be awesome.” He parked outside of the nearest store that sold decorations, glancing at Allison. “You want to get classroom stuff while I find us something to eat?” 

Allison nodded and unfastened her seatbelt, grinning. “Tacos?”

“Hell yes.” Stiles laughed and got out, wishing he had put his hat back on as he walked down to the end of the block to get lunch for himself and Allison. He wasn’t even sure how he was going to manage to spend such a small amount of money, but he was determined to find a way to make it work. 

Derek rubbed his hands over his eyes as he got into line. His older sister was in the car in the parking lot and he was sure that if she could see him, she’d be honking the horn repeatedly to get his attention. He shifted his attention back to the line and shoved his hands in his pockets.

Stiles got into line behind Derek, glancing up as he waited for a search to load on his phone. “Hey.” He spoke carefully, not wanting to startle the other man. “How’s your sister doing?” 

Derek glanced back at Stiles, squinting at the other man. “Fine?” He asked, furrowing his brows. “Or tolerable. Depending which one you’re talking about.”

Stiles laughed. “I was talking about Cora. She was having a rough morning and I suggested that she take a mental health day for herself.” He explained. “I’m her English teacher. I thought you knew that.” 

“Oh, right.” Derek grimaced. “I don’t pay nearly as much attention as I should, and Laura’s legally Cora’s guardian, so… But anyway.” He shook his head. “Yeah. Uh, thanks for looking out for her.” He cleared his throat. “She’s at home right now, relaxing, and Laura and I offered to get food and just kind of… huddle, I guess, at home.”

“I know this is none of my business, but I have a tendency to meddle anyway.” Stiles began, shoving his phone into his pocket. “I think the three of you need a new tradition. Something fun, or at least as much fun as something can be, right now. I understand why it’s not. I lost my mom as a kid, like I was telling your sister - Cora, I mean. Not the other one. And the only thing that got me through was gaining a new appreciation for the holidays that she wasn’t part of, anymore.” 

Derek gazed at Stiles for a moment. “It’s been… difficult.” He murmured. “They were a part of… they were involved in every holiday that they could be.” He snorted. “We even have a rough time when Arbor Day comes around, because they’re the ones that planted half the trees that lead from our backyard to the Preserve.” He went silent for a moment, and then exhaled. “What do you suggest?”

“Go somewhere that they never took you. Or stay here in town, but start a new tradition. Or even recreate the old ones. You don’t have to avoid things because your parents aren’t around, you know? I mean, my mom would have probably been upset if she knew that I told people I hated Halloween, the first year she was gone. That was her favorite holiday.” Stiles smiled softly. 

Derek rubbed a hand over his eyes. “It was my dad’s, too. Both of them, actually.” He murmured, and then huffed out a laugh. “They alternated favorites every year. It was their way of making sure they each got to devote the proper amount of attention to it in their own way. Since they’ve been gone, we haven’t… I mean, Laura will decorate the inside of the house, but we don’t really pay the same amount of attention to the holidays that they used to. We want to, but it almost feels like we can’t do it justice.” He furrowed his brows. “Maybe getting out or doing our own thing would be a smart idea.”

“It helped me a lot.” Stiles reiterated, feeling guilty that he had been pushing two of the three Hales in one day, to get them to celebrate instead of mourn. He knew it wasn’t his place, but he didn’t like seeing people suffer when they didn’t deserve to. Everyone in town knew what had happened to the Hales; it wasn’t any secret. 

Derek nodded, his eyes moving over Stiles’ shoulder toward his sister’s car. “I’ll bring it up. The worst they could say is no.” His gaze flicked back over to Stiles. “Thanks.”

Stiles nodded to Derek. “No problem.” He murmured. “I know I overstepped. I’m not really sorry, though?” 

Derek snorted. “It’s fine.” He assured the other man. “You’re not overstepping any boundaries that weren’t meant to be overstepped. We don’t really have anyone else to worry. It’s… nice knowing that maybe someone does, even if it’s just professionally.”

Stiles took his turn to order tacos for himself and Allison, then glanced at Derek again. “Maybe what I’m doing this year can inspire you guys, somehow.” He suggested. “Long story short, my best friend and I are twisting an idea from a Christmas story to get each other presents. Uh, not the movie or anything, I’m talking about a specific story. But I guess if you guys wanna get Red Ryder BB guns, you can do that and go nuts?” He shrugged one shoulder and smiled. 

“I wouldn’t trust either one of my sisters with a Red Ryder anything.” Derek laughed quietly. “What story? What are you doing?” He asked, and then shifted down a little to put in the order for himself and his sisters at the next cashier.

“The Gift of the Magi. One character only has about two dollars, and she wants to get her husband a nice gift for Christmas. Of course, two dollars back then was worth closer to fifty now, but still. It had taken her a long time to save up that much. So anyway, it’s... it’s actually a dollar and eighty-seven cents, and I told my friend that she’s not allowed to spend more than that on me, and I won’t spend more than that on her.” 

Derek raised his eyebrows. “That’s going to be a bit difficult, isn’t it?” He pointed out. “A dollar and eighty-seven cents now would be lucky to buy you a gift bag and some tissue paper at a dollar store.”

“But that’s the challenge of it.” Stiles insisted. “I don’t care if she buys me a pack of gum or something from a coin machine outside the grocery store. The whole point is that every year, someone in the world doesn’t know what to get someone else, so they either buy them a ridiculously expensive present or they get them something lame, or they might even break up with the person to avoid buying them anything at all and risk disappointing them. Not that I’m dating her, I’m just saying. It happens. I’ve seen it happen. I don’t want to get a scarf or a tie, I don’t want a stereo. I just want something that took a little more thought than grabbing the first thing on sale, just to cross me off of a list.” 

Derek looked thoughtful at Stiles’ words, cocking his head to the side. “That… actually makes me want to participate more, I think.” He said quietly. “It’s hard enough to find gifts you can afford that mean anything as it is, and those gifts are usually a ridiculous amount to begin with. It might actually be easier trying to find something a little more meaningful with less.”

Stiles nodded again, smiling. He picked up the bag of tacos waiting for him. “Tell Cora not to take too many days off, all right? I said I’d try to get her excused for tomorrow, but I can’t keep covering for her.” 

Derek smiled back. “I’ll let her know. Thanks.” He paused. “Thank you for looking out for her, too.”

“Well, that’s sort of my job.” Stiles laughed and walked back to his Jeep, his mind still on what he was going to get for Allison. If he bought something cheap that he could use to make something else for her, using supplies he already had, he didn’t think that would break his own rules. 

Allison walked out of the store with three bags dangling from her fingers. She lifted her hand and waved at Stiles as best she could, grinning. “There are so many creepy little elves and gnomes that I couldn’t resist. The kids are going to be so freaked out.”

Stiles grinned back at her. “Hide one in someone’s locker if they start acting like a dick.” He teased. “And then put another one in their car.” 

“Yes.” Allison giggled, cocking her head to the side. “Maybe I’ll enlist Scott if Jackson starts acting like Jackson again.”

Stiles’ eyebrow raised, but he didn’t say anything as he got into the Jeep and started it. He didn’t think it would help Allison at all if he pointed out that her mind kept drifting back to Scott McCall. The teenager in question was sixteen, so he wasn’t exactly what Stiles would have classified as ‘too young.’ But still, the age of consent in California was eighteen, and just because Harris didn’t seem to give a shit about that didn’t mean that all of the other teachers at Beacon Hills High had to follow suit. 

Allison climbed into the passenger side next to him and peered through the bags, looking thoughtful as she poked one of the elves in the nose. “Does this look like Harris to you?” She asked, holding it up and looking over at Stiles. “I’m trying to think of a way to unnerve him, just by putting this thing somewhere he can see it. It’s like the eyes are staring at you, whatever way you turn it.” She shuddered. “Maybe I can just hide it in his desk before he comes in tomorrow.”

Stiles smiled. “Yeah, we’ll wait until he leaves his classroom. He’s going to know you did it, though. Just so you have that in mind.” He drove back toward the school, parking in the lot and getting one of the tacos out of the bag. He took a careful bite, since he wasn’t by himself, and chewed slowly, his head turned away from Allison. 

Allison snorted as she reached for her own taco, her eyes on him. “Why are you hiding? I know you’re starving, and I’ve watched you demolish sandwiches the size of your head before.” A second later, she took a large bite and wiped out half of her taco in one go, using the wrapper as a ‘plate’ to keep any stray bits of lettuce or tomato from falling into her lap.

Stiles glanced at her, blinking. “You’re gross.” He laughed, then took a larger bite of the food in his hands. “I was trying to be polite, but since that’s out the window, whatever.” 

“You don’t need to be prim and proper and polite in front of me.” Allison laughed, waving a hand. She finished chewing and swallowed before going in for another bite. “I’m starving and I know you are, too. I don’t care if you’re a slob because I totally can be.”

“I can see that.” Stiles said dryly. “Maybe I should buy you a towel, so you can use it like a bib.” He laughed, crumpling his wrapper and tossing it back into the bag before he got his second taco out and took a bite of it. “I’m glad I only have one more class today. I’m going to grade all of the papers I’ve assigned and go to a bar after work. You want to come with me?” He glanced at her. “I’ll probably leave my Jeep and walk to the bar, since I live by it. Cabs home are a better idea, anyway. I’ve seen too many drunken accident reports over the years.” 

Allison grabbed a napkin and wiped her mouth before she reached for her next taco. “Oh, definitely. Do you want me to meet you at your place, or at the bar?”

“I guess my place?” Stiles murmured. “If you don’t mind walking a few blocks.” 

“I don’t mind.” Allison assured him. “You’re not wrong, it’s definitely smarter to take a cab back.” She paused. “Speaking of _not_ driving while drunk, if I’m driving to yours ahead of time, you wouldn’t mind if I crashed there, would you?”

“Yeah, that’s fine, too.” Stiles answered easily. “No bringing someone else back to my place, though.” He teased. “That’s crossing a line.” 

“I wouldn’t dare,” Allison laughed. “But if you bring someone back with you, all bets are off.”

“If I bring someone back with me, I actually expect you to stand outside my bedroom door and play the Hallelujah Chorus at full volume, because that would be a damned miracle.” Stiles grinned. 

Allison choked out another laugh, cupping her hand over her mouth. “Oh, please, you could totally have a drunken one night stand easily. You’re very attractive, sweetie.” She patted Stiles’ arm reassuringly.

“That’s the part that I don’t think you get.” Stiles shook his head at her. “I don’t want that. I mean, if it was a big city, that would be one thing. But here, being with someone for one night means you’re going to run into them at least six times in the next month, and it’s going to be awkward. Besides, I would rather have someone around for a lot longer. Like I said, I get addicted to a person.” 

“Hmm.” Allison sighed. “Well… what if you brought someone home for a one night stand with the potential to turn into something long term? Like… you go home with them, or they come home with you and there’s full intent on sleeping with each other but you both agree beforehand that you want something more. There’s no one you could run into in Beacon Hills like that? What about Jordan?”

“Ugh, don’t remind me.” Stiles grimaced. The deputy had been working with Stiles’ father since Stiles was in his senior year of high school, and he had the kind of looks that practically screamed All-American. It had been easy to get a little sidetracked on holiday visits, just from the deputy smiling at him. But Jordan hadn’t been attracted to Stiles. More than two years since he had taken the chance to ask the man out, Stiles still avoided going into the police station if he thought Deputy Parrish might be there. “I don’t have the first clue how to do anything like that. I don’t know how to even begin that discussion. And definitely not Jordan.” 

Allison grimaced. “I won’t bring him up again. Sorry.” She paused. “Do you want me to stick by your side and make you look a thousand times better by comparison?”

“What...” Stiles frowned. “Shut up, you’re not ugly.” 

“No, I meant -” Allison started laughing. “I meant, I could be your wingman. Wingwoman?” She frowned. “What the fuck identifier do I use here? Whatever, I mean, I can direct all hot guy and girl action to you.”

“In that case, I accept.” Stiles nodded. “I was starting to think I’d have to buy you a mirror for Christmas.” 

Allison shook her head, grinning. “No mirrors. I know I’m pretty, I promise, sweetie.” She teased. “I’m still debating what I should get you. What do you even want this year? Wait, I don’t even remember what you wanted last year.”

“I think last year, we didn’t do this because we had that faculty gift swap and somehow, we both got Harris? And I said I was never doing it again and that if they tried to make us, I’d make all of them suffer.” Stiles said bluntly. “I didn’t tell you about that because our friendship was still kind of new and I was determined not to piss you off.” 

Allison smiled at him fondly. “You’re so thoughtful. You wouldn’t have pissed me off. I mean, you didn’t know that then, but I’m reassuring you now, you definitely wouldn’t have pissed me off. You’d have just ended up with a partner in crime. Also, I remain convinced that Harris pulled a Sue Sylvester and that _every_ member of the faculty got his damn name.”

“Probably where he got the idea.” Stiles snorted. His phone beeped, and he turned off the alarm and looked up at Allison. “Time to get back to work.”


	2. Tuesday, December 5th

Stiles rubbed his eyes as he walked into his kitchen, the next morning. The night before had gone better than he expected, though he felt a little rude for bringing someone home with him after the conversation with Allison about how he shouldn’t or wouldn’t do that. Said stranger was a short redhead, eyeing the contents of his fridge with distaste. “I’ve got frozen waffles.” He suggested, opening his cabinet to get a clean cup for coffee. 

“I saw those. I was hoping for an egg white omelette, but yours are expired. Besides, the refrigeration process actually ruins eggs. They’re better off from a farmer’s market, stored in a pantry.” 

Stiles turned toward the woman as he leaned back against his counter, waiting for the coffee to pour into his Darth Vader mug. “You’re talking to me about something before I’ve ingested caffeine, and I haven’t even known you a whole twelve hours. I’m not normally like this, but I don’t even remember your name. That’s shitty of me and even shittier that I’m telling you, I know. But I prefer being on a first-name basis with someone that wants to tell me how I’m failing at being an adult.” 

“Lydia.” Lydia’s lips curved into a smile. “And you’re Stiles. I should be disgusted with you, but that would indicate that you mean something to me.” She tilted her chin up defiantly at him. “Now that we’ve insulted each other, please tell me you at least have something edible in this house.” 

“Can we order in?” Allison asked, yawning and rubbing her eyes as she entered the kitchen sleepily. “I want breakfast, but… effort.” She blinked a little, clearing her vision, and then looked up at Stiles before she followed his line of sight to Lydia, and blinked again. “Hi.”

“Hi.” Lydia repeated. “I’m guessing that neither one of you drinks very much, and you both over-indulged last night. You told me that you’re both teachers. You don’t really have time to order in. It’s Tuesday.” 

Allison froze, and then cursed. “I’m bringing a change of clothes over the next time we do this.” She looked at her phone, furrowing her brow. “Bagels?”

Stiles was staring at Lydia, blinking when he realized the noise from his coffeemaker had stopped, so he reached for the cup, blowing on the hot liquid in it. “Uh, yeah. I guess.” He muttered. 

Lydia glanced from Stiles to Allison, then walked through the living room and picked up her purse, leaving the house. 

“That was weird, right?” Stiles frowned. 

Allison stared after her, and then looked back at Stiles, nodding. “Definitely.” She murmured, and furrowed her brows together. “Was she like that at the bar?”

“I don’t know. I remember a few things.” Stiles admitted, sipping his coffee before he set the mug aside. “I know I had sex with her, I remember her laughing at something I said and I was kind of stunned by that, and that was about it.” 

“She’s beautiful.” Allison murmured, looking back over her shoulder after the redhead. “But I get the feeling that she doesn’t have a lot of tolerance for people who… I don’t know. Aren’t on her level of thinking, I guess?” She looked back at Stiles. “So now we know what booze actually does to me.”

“I guess I overdid it.” Stiles snorted. “Well, I’d say I’ll probably never see her again, but it’s Beacon Hills. So I’m probably going to see her at least once a day for the next month.” 

Allison gave him a small smile and shrugged. “It could be worse?” She murmured. “She could show up every hour on the hour for the next month.” Her eyes flicked toward the door again. She didn’t really think she’d mind, honestly. She never made very good first impressions to begin with.

“Eggos?” Stiles offered. “Or I have eggs, which apparently are expired?” He made a face, opening the fridge. “As of today. That’s not expired, that’s a reason to eat all of them.” 

Allison nodded eagerly as her stomach made an angry growling noise. “Absolutely yes. To Eggos and eggs both.”

“I’m not happy about this.” Stiles remarked, getting the box out of the freezer and dropping four waffles into the toaster. “I mean, I told you yesterday. I don’t _do_ this. If I’m with someone sexually, I’m with them in just about every other way. I feel like shit that I don’t know her last name, where she lives, what car she drives. Where she works. God, if she’s even legal.” 

Allison looked apologetic as she moved toward the fridge and got the eggs and butter out. “If it helps at all, I’m fairly certain she’s legal. Girls under eighteen don’t really move with the sort of confidence she has. And… I’m sorry I pushed you into this.” She studied the carton for a moment. “Next time we go drinking, it’ll just be for drinks. I mean, if you want there to be a next time.”

“It’s not like it’s your fault. I wasn’t blaming you.” Stiles shook his head, then eyed his coffee warily before he picked it up to take a long drink of it. “I have to hurry up and get to the school, so I can put up all of the wish list ornaments.” He muttered. “I should’ve just done it yesterday.” 

Allison hesitated, and then put the eggs back. “I could help?” She offered. “Or I could maybe convince some of my kids to help?”

“I’d agree to that, but I want it done before first period.” Stiles explained, sighing. “I didn’t mean you can’t eat, dammit. Just stay here and eat. I’ll grab something from the vending machine over there. I fucked up, that’s on me.” 

Allison shook her head and smiled crookedly. “That makes two of us, then. And who says I’m not eating? We’ve got Eggos - we’re set for the day.” She nodded at him. “We can grab them and go get started on the ornaments.”

“Even though I’ve been a complete dick?” Stiles looked surprised. “I told you I wasn’t going to bring anyone back here and I forgot her name.” 

Allison huffed. “You were also drunk. It’s pure luck you remembered your own name. And… we’re friends. Friends help each other - even when one of them is a pushy bitch, and the other one is a dick with alcohol-aided memory issues.”

Stiles laughed softly. “Sorry I’m a pushy bitch, then.” He teased. He ran his fingers through his hair. “Do you need coffee, too?” 

Allison smiled at him. “Yes, please. I’d love some.”

Stiles nodded and smiled back at his friend, turning to make a cup of coffee for her. He figured he must not have been terrible in bed, since Lydia had stayed long enough to at least tell him good morning. He wished he remembered more than a few brief flashes and wondered if he would be wrong to ask her for a second time. 

Allison folded her arms on the table and propped her chin over them, watching Stiles curiously. “What are you thinking?” She asked.

“I’m thinking about sex.” Stiles said bluntly. “I remember a little of it. Not enough, though.” 

Allison grinned knowingly. “Thinking a repeat would jog your memory?”

Stiles smiled back at her. “Yeah, that’s what I’m hoping.” He set her coffee down in front of her, then started eating one of the waffles. “I have to go around the building today and tell everyone to excuse Cora Hale if she ditches again. I told Derek to make sure she comes in tomorrow, though. Harris already tried to give me shit about it.” 

“Harris is a miserable little man that wouldn’t understand empathy if it rattled off chemical compounds and equations at him in perfect English and then bit him in the ass.” Allison scoffed, shaking her head. “If Cora ditches again today, I’ll do my best to make sure that she gets caught up in my class as fast and easily as possible. She’s brilliant - it won’t be difficult.”

Stiles smiled. “Yeah, she is. I’m glad she felt comfortable enough to talk to me about it. I understood why she didn’t want to write about her favorite holiday, so I told her to just write something else. Whatever she wanted.” 

“What did she end up writing about?” Allison asked him, her head tilted to the side. “Or is she not finished with it, yet?”

“Nah, it was an in-class thing. Busy work because my plan of keeping them talking all period went out the window, halfway through.” Stiles laughed. “She wrote about food holidays. Lemon cupcakes, chocolate-covered stuff and bacon. It’s tempting to offer her extra credit if she brings me a lemon cupcake, topped in chocolate-covered bacon. That’s what she gets for making me hungry.” 

Allison groaned. “Oh, that sounds so good, though.” She laughed, lifting a waffle, folding it in half and biting into it. “Hell, I’ll give her extra credit in my class if she brings me one.”

“Yeah, we’d better get out of here. And stop by your place, so you can change clothes.” Stiles smiled crookedly. “I’d be nice and let you borrow a shirt, but then all of our students would start saying shit and I’m not interested in trying to deal with that.” 

Allison made a face and shrugged. “Even rumor-wise it’d be the most action I’d have gotten in years.” She laughed. “But yeah… you’re more like a brother to me than anything, and teenage rumors about our non-existent love life would be a little too _Game of Thrones_ for me.” She stood and stretched, letting out a yawn. “Alright, let’s move.”

Stiles had finished hanging the last of the wish decorations on the garland when he heard someone clearing their throat. He frowned, turning toward the doorway to see who was there. 

Lydia smiled in greeting, glancing from Stiles to Allison. “I just wanted to introduce myself, formally. I’m taking over for the science teacher for the next few weeks, since he had an out-of-state emergency. I heard that you have a holiday faculty party?” 

“Yeah, we do.” Stiles said hesitantly, wondering if he was being pranked or spied on. “But we hate it.” 

Allison blinked wide eyes at Lydia, but smiled. “It was kind of awful, the one time I experienced it,” she offered, nodding. “They hold it on the last day of school before the holiday break.”

“I was asked to be in charge of it, this year.” Lydia admitted. “I agreed to it.” She gave Allison an assessing look, decided the brunette wasn’t a threat, and smiled at her again. “I’ve coordinated events for the radio station I work for. That’s my main job. This is something I thought I’d agree to do, to supplement my income. Substitute teachers are probably more in demand than regular teachers. Everyone likes a day off now and then.” 

“Uh, about that. I mean, about last night...” Stiles began, feeling awkward. “I was thinking that if you wanted to do it again-” 

“No.” Lydia said succinctly. “Don’t get the wrong idea, I enjoyed myself. But I don’t want anything more serious than friendship with you.” 

“I didn’t necessarily...” Stiles trailed off, sighing. “Uh, yeah, nevermind.” 

“You asked me to marry you no less than six times.” Lydia kicked the door shut without turning around, when voices in the hallway grew louder as teenagers approached the classroom. “You seem like a sweet guy and I hope you meet the right person. And I hope you decide to take it easy on the vodka, next time you’re looking for someone to bring home with you.” 

Allison winced apologetically. “That was my fault. Apparently, drunk-me is a shameless enabler. And still very, very pushy.”

“I’m still responsible for myself.” Stiles protested, laughing in embarrassment. “Okay, so. Friends, yeah?” He asked Lydia. “I have to teach my class, and so do both of you. Get out.” He smiled, pointing at the door. 

Allison’s lips twitched and she saluted as she stood up. “Sir, yes, sir.” She replied, and then looked at Lydia and opened the door once more. “After you.”

Lydia smiled in amusement and left Stiles’ classroom, turning toward Allison in the hallway. “How long have you been here?” 

“A little over two years,” Allison replied, looking back at the redhead in interest. “I used to live in Beacon Hills, but I left for college, and I’d assumed I’d stay gone. This place is like a siren’s song, though. Keeps calling you back.”

“My parents were going to move here with me and my older sister when I was in third grade, but my dad got a job offer for a bank in Chicago, so we moved there instead. I came here a couple of times on vacations during college, and I decided that no matter what, I was going to get a job and buy a house here.” Lydia smiled. 

“Really?” Allison looked surprised, but couldn’t help smiling. “You liked it here that much? I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love Beacon Hills, I do. But for awhile there, I really didn’t and all I wanted to do was turn my back on this town.”

“I like that it’s quiet enough.” Lydia murmured. “I’ve been here for a few years now, too. Sometimes, I do miss Chicago. But I can always go visit my parents or my sister. She lives in New York CIty. We’re better off being on opposite coasts. I started off teaching as a substitute while I waited for a radio broadcasting job to open up.” 

Allison straightened, looking intrigued. “You’re on the radio?” She blurted. “That’s amazing. Is it difficult or easier than you think it would be? And the talking in front of people - I get tongue-tied around my kids a lot and they’re all brats so they give me hell for it when they catch it, but I’d imagine talking to people over the radio would be much easier.”

“I did mention it already, didn’t I?” Lydia murmured. “It’s easy, you’re only talking to a microphone. I don’t generally do interviews. This is Beacon Hills, after all. Bands don’t come here.” 

“Oh, right.” Allison made a face. “Yeah, they tend to go everywhere but Beacon Hills.” She looked a little wistful, smiling faintly. “It would be kind of incredible if they did.” Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, she directed her smile at Lydia. “Anyway. Glad you’re subbing for Harris. He’s a mean, mean little man.”

“I already heard a few stories from Coach Finstock.” Lydia laughed. She glanced toward the science classroom when the bell rang. “I’ll see you at lunch?” 

Allison beamed and nodded. “Absolutely.” She agreed. “I’ll see you then.”

Stiles stood near the door of his classroom, listening to their conversation and smiling to himself. He was glad that Allison was making other friends, even though he was doing his best to ignore the nagging feeling that she wouldn’t be around as much, or at all. He sat down on his desk to wait for his students to come in. 

“Morning, Mister S,” Scott greeted cheerfully as he pushed his way into the classroom. He dropped down in his seat and looked up to the front of the room expectantly. 

A steady flow of students came pouring in after him, and Cora trailed slowly after them a few minutes later with Derek at her shoulder. She looked up at him warily, and then glanced at Stiles briefly before wandering to her seat.

Derek nodded at her and then walked toward Stiles, bending a little to speak quietly to him. “We talked to her about whether she felt she was ready to come back or not, and she decided that she was, obviously. But I just wanted to speak with you for a moment. Um…” he paused, glancing at the students warily. “In the hallway?”

“Sure.” Stiles glanced at the other students, then followed Derek out of the classroom. “I don’t usually get parents of high-schoolers checking in with me, and I don’t think I’ve ever had an older sibling doing it. Her grades are fine. Better than fine.” 

“Oh, it’s not - I know. She’s brilliant, smarter than Laura and I put together.” Derek huffed a laugh. “I actually wanted to talk to you about keeping an eye out on her. I mean, you already seem like you are, but I just kind of wanted… you know, to touch base with you. I just - I worry about her. She’s not - she doesn’t take well to other people, but she has to you. You know? If you could just sort of…” He looked frustrated as he tried to phrase what he wanted from Stiles. “I know you’re her teacher, but if you could be her friend, too, as much as you can be, I’d be grateful.”

“Yeah, I have a few students that I think I’d be friends with.” Stiles shrugged one shoulder. “Cora’s one of them.” 

Derek smiled at him and nodded. “Good.” He murmured. “She deserves that. Friends. People in general.”

“Yeah. Well, she won’t see me if I get fired, because I’ll have to go find a job in Alaska or something.” Stiles snorted. “I have to get back to work.” He nodded back at Derek and went into the classroom. 

Cora looked tense when she saw him, her fingers clenching around a pen and tapping it repetitively against the desk like she was trying to hammer a dent into it.

“So what’s on the agenda today, teach?” Jackson drawled, stretching out in his seat and staring at Stiles lazily.

“Well, first, I’m handing back the papers you wrote yesterday.” Stiles shook his head as he looked around the room. “I won’t name names, but a couple of you misspelled the holidays you’re claiming you celebrate. Also, those of you who said you’re Jewish, I know you’re not. Do a little more research before you lie, from now on. You’ll never get away with it, otherwise.” 

Greenberg hunched down in his seat without a single word, his face reddening.

Scott looked upbeat, leaning forward in his desk. “What about the rest of us, though? Are we golden?”

“Yeah. Uh, about that? I hadn’t even planned on giving you this assignment, so I’m counting it as extra credit toward your point totals, up to twenty points.” Stiles got up from his desk and started handing the papers back to the students. “You can all consider this my gift to you, anyway. I like the holidays, from Halloween through New Year’s Day, which happens to also be my birthday. Not that you asked. However, I hate Valentine’s Day and I’m only mildly fond of St. Patrick’s Day, which I’m sure I’ve mentioned more than once over the years. I’m being kind now, but I’m going to be on your nerves in a couple of months, just in case you’ve forgotten.” 

Scott seemed to be manically scrawling something in the margins of his notebook as Stiles spoke, and he kept intermittently looking up at the older man with wide eyes. 

Erica leaned over and stared at Scott’s notebook, and blinked before saying - unintentionally - loudly, “Why are you writing down everything Mister S is saying about his favorite holidays, you doof?”

Scott didn’t look up that time, the tops of his ears going red being the only giveaway that he was embarrassed at getting busted. “Uh… for future reference.”

“I promise it won’t be on any tests.” Stiles said gently, smiling. 

Scott looked up at him sheepishly and smiled back, shrugging a shoulder. “I didn’t really think there would be. I just… wanted to keep the info.”

“No need to explain.” Stiles shook his head. “I’d rather see someone writing down my favorite holidays than writing a note to tell their best friend that I’m an obnoxious dick.” As he spoke, he crumpled a piece of paper on Heather’s desk, giving her a disapproving frown before he threw the paper into the trash can. “Just because you think you’re clever and won’t get caught doesn’t mean that we don’t see you.” 

Heather looked sulkily down at her desk, scowling and folding her arms over her chest.

Scott straightened. “I don’t think you’re a dick.” He said loyally. “I think you’re the best teacher we’ve ever had.”

“No bias, of course.” Erica added, lips twitching.

“No, that would be rude.” Stiles agreed, laughing. “Okay, come up here, one row at a time, and pick a gift request to fill for someone else.” He glanced at Cora, wondering what the teen thought about his request for cupcakes for himself and Allison, in exchange for more extra credit. “And let me see which one you grabbed, so I know who you’re buying for. Even though you won’t.” 

Several students hoisted themselves up and headed toward the front of the room. Scott smiled winningly at Stiles as he rushed toward the front of the line and grabbed a gift request.

Cora was the last person up, an arm folded around herself as she trudged up to the front of the room and picked the last request available before wandering back to her seat and sighing. She set the paper to the side without looking at it.

Stiles masked his frustration with her reaction by making another announcement. “Next week, if all of the gifts have been purchased and essays have been turned in, we’re going to watch a few movies. If I can talk Ms. Argent into it, we might combine at least the first two classes and just show a movie a day. Uh, by the way? Harris isn’t teaching science for the next few weeks. Call it a Christmas miracle if you want. You’ve got a sub. I know how you guys treat substitute teachers because I know how I used to treat them. Be nice to her, don’t go out of your way to cause problems. Anyway, the more teachers you impress this week, the more likely it is that you can spend your entire mornings next week just watching movies.” 

Cora had straightened up hopefully the minute Stiles had said Harris wouldn’t be teaching, and all the tension inside of her relaxed. She didn’t have issues with impressing the teachers - her work spoke for her, and if it meant that she could have an easier week than normal in her favorite - thus far - teacher’s class, she’d do whatever he wanted, and participate. Her hand crept toward the gift slip and slowly turned it over, her eyes darting down to look at the recipient’s wish.

“More easy work for you today.” Stiles continued. “You can get started on your essays now. You can get two paragraphs done now, if you try. I want these typed, though. Paragraph one, why did you choose the gift you’re going to get for someone. Paragraph two, who do you think the gift is actually for and what made you reach that conclusion. Also, if it changes your perspective about the person you assume you’re buying for, explain that. These paragraphs should be at least four sentences each, and I want the papers double-spaced. After you buy the gift, write your third paragraph about where you got the gift from, how you chose the exact thing you bought. If you want to write details about the clerk that rang up your items or anything like that, go for it.” 

“So, basically anything that has to do with our experience, as long as it pops into our head and pertains to the gift giving, we can write about it?” Erica asked, still glaring a little suspiciously at her gift slip, her head cocked to the side. “Because mine is… different.”

“Yes, that works.” Stiles nodded. “And if you want to get the person something else, you can do that, too. If you don’t, then don’t. You won’t get extra credit for buying more things, though.” 

“Damn.” Erica muttered, and straightened, clamping her mouth shut. “Uh. I mean. Darn. Gosh darn it.”

“I have a pretty clear memory of saying a worse swear word than that in front of all of you, yesterday.” Stiles pointed out. “If I’m not in trouble, neither are you.” 

“Right.” Erica tossed Stiles a huge grin and a thumbs-up.

Scott seemed to twitch a little, glaring at Erica, before he let his gaze dart back to Stiles. “I’m all for it, Mister S.” He assured the teacher, grinning widely, and then made a show of opening his notebook to a blank page and putting his pen to paper.

Stiles finished killing his fifth demon in a row and glanced over at Allison. “I don’t think you’re the only one who has to worry about Scott’s emotional attachment.” He remarked. “And after the way I told you yesterday to be careful, I kind of need some of that back.” 

Allison looked back at him and smiled crookedly. “Oh, boy.” She murmured. “He does get very attached, doesn’t he?” She clicked a few buttons and furrowed her brow, and then glanced at him again. “Did you have him last year, too? Was he like this then?”

“I did. I’ve taught all of the English classes since I started here.” Stiles blinked, wondering why he had to explain that. “I don’t think he was like this last year, though.” 

Allison brushed her hair back over her ear, chewing on her lower lip. “I’m only asking because… well, it means you know him a little better than I do. And I’m kind of thinking it means that he knows you pretty well, too.” She paused and looked at her followers, of which there admittedly weren’t many. “He’s… not very creative, is he? ‘ScottMcCall0823 has requested to follow you.’”

“But you’ve been here about what, two years now?” Stiles made a face, watching the screen in front of him for a moment before he spoke again. “Sometimes I feel like you’re still new, and that’s weird.” He eyed the request from Scott on his own laptop and thought for a minute, then added him. 

“Sometimes I feel like I’m still new, too.” Allison admitted. “Though now I guess that’s Lydia. How does Scott even know our usernames?” She hesitated a little longer, debating with herself over Scott’s request before exhaling slowly and approving it. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he hacked something on my computer to find my info.” Instead of looking disturbed by the words, her lips trembled and she let out a laugh.

“I think he’d feel too guilty about that.” Stiles shook his head. “He heard me talking about it awhile back and I told him my username because there’s nothing against playing video games with your students, outside of the classroom. And I don’t have a whole lot of friends on here, so process of elimination. Or he added all of my friends, figuring he would find you that way.” 

Allison breathed out, looking back at Stiles. A whimper escaped her throat. “Is it wrong that part of me is thinking that it’s really cute that he did that? Because part of me is thinking that it’s really cute.” She poked morosely at her keyboard, one-shotting a demon that had spotted her. “I wish he wasn’t so cute.”

“He was writing down my favorite holidays, today.” Stiles snorted. “It sucks for me because I’m feeling a little like crap that Lydia doesn’t want me for anything long-term, or even very short-term. But that’s how she feels, I can’t control that. I also can’t control that I would snuggle with just about anyone right now to stop feeling lonely.” 

Allison, who was silently keening over Scott’s actions, sighed. “I know what you mean. I’m thinking about getting a puppy or a cat just so I have someone that greets me when I come home to my apartment, even if the cat ignores me immediately after.”

Stiles fell silent, except for a stream of swear words when a raid boss attacked him. “Okay.” He said finally, sitting back in his chair. “I think that we have to each make a decision, but also one together. Probably. I’m not interested in getting fired or arrested for anyone. Not even Scott. But he’ll be a legal adult one of these days and not our student anymore. Then what happens?” 

Allison looked uncertain, licking her lips nervously. She exhaled. “I think that what happens… is that you and I should consider whether or not we’re actually okay with getting involved with a former student and what might happen if one of us gets a little… hmm, jealous? I know things might be said about us around town, depending on which one of us… um, ends up with him. If we end up with him. But I don’t really care much what other people say about me. Not, you know, when it comes to relationships. But I’m with you on this, I’m not making a move now. Maybe not ever, but definitely not while he’s still in school. I actually like my job and I don’t want to lose it.”

“Right.” Stiles agreed, his eyes on the computer screen again. He looked over at Allison. “Okay. Hear me out. I'm not going to tell you how to live your life. Not in this regard, anyway.” He laughed softly. “But I don’t care what anyone says about me, either. The only person who might have questions that would impact me would be my dad, but that’s just professional curiosity. He grills me every time I see him, anyway. He’s the Sheriff, it’s his whole thing. I’m just glad that I’m not under his roof anymore because reasons. We say nothing to Scott about this conversation. If he decides not to go to college and is still interested in one of us when he’s eighteen, and enough to say something directly to us at the time - you’ve reached that point with him already, I haven’t - then it’s fine. If he goes to college and comes back when he’s twenty with an Associate’s? Fine. Twenty-two with a Bachelor’s? Yep. Wanders off to parts unknown and decides to live out his days as a mime in Europe? Obviously, he’s never speaking to us again, but it’s not our fault. Regardless, we’re living our lives as things happen. If Lydia hits her head and gets some kind of Fifty First Dates amnesia, I’m not above taking advantage of that. Nicely! I just don’t want to wait around for someone who’s only sixteen right now. He’ll figure out who and what he wants one day. Right now, we just need to be careful not to hurt his feelings.” 

Allison nodded, her lips pursed and a small frown on her face. “I definitely don’t want to hurt the guy. He’s - I’d feel like the shittiest being on earth if I did. I agree. I can wait - or, not wait because I’m still human and I haven’t been touched in a god’s age. But I can refrain from jumping him. I just… need to find someone else to focus on, so that I don’t, you know, cave into temptation. Or something.”

“Yeah, it’s overstepping if I tell you to go buy yourself some toys, right?” Stiles smirked. “Don’t lose focus. You don’t belong in prison.” 

Allison snorted, but nodded sagely. “I wouldn’t do well there. I can’t be someone’s bitch, and I’m just dumb enough to piss the wrong person off and end up in a fight. And then _I’d_ probably end up accidentally leading someone around, and - well, that’s just a disaster in the making.”

“It’s aggravating me. It didn’t bother me that I was single, really. I would like to find the right person, but I just figured they weren’t around. And then... uh, I’m not blaming you for this, before it sounds like it? I ended up with Lydia, remembering just enough to want a second chance with her, and she’s not interested. I feel like crap and Scott is really attentive and yeah, I’m in the same situation as you.” Stiles sighed. “Do you think there’s a school full of ugly, rude kids somewhere, in need of a history teacher and an English teacher?” 

Allison sighed and slumped down in her chair, staring at her computer screen. “Maybe in the Twisting Nether.” She answered finally, making a face. “Someone’s gotta be teaching those assholes Azerothian history and how to speak Common, right?”

“Do I need to take the game away from you?” Stiles snorted. “You just had to go and say ‘Twisting Nether’ and now my mind is going places it really shouldn’t be, given the nature of this conversation.” He clicked through a few things to see where Scott was in the game, then sent him a message. ‘Don’t move, making a new character.’ “I’m going straight to hell.” 

“Probably.” Allison snorted. “Want me to make a new one, too? At least you wouldn’t be headed there alone.”

“Yeah. God, is this giving him false hope, do you think?” Stiles sighed. “I shouldn’t think it’s sweet that he memorized my username here, went out and got the game, and - does he have any friends? He’s friendly, but I don’t see him with other kids, really. I don’t pay that much attention, though.” 

“I do.” Allison sighed, waving her hand dismissively. “I know, I know. But I don’t think he does. He and Erica seem friendly. And he mostly seems to tolerate Jackson. I’m honestly kind of shocked that he and Cora haven’t gravitated toward each other.” She clicked at the screen until she had maneuvered to the character creation screen. “I would have thought they’d have a bit in common. Or could at least fake it until it looked like they did. Either way… it probably is giving him a little false hope, but…” She grimaced, fidgeting. “Can’t we be a little selfish when we aren’t in school and therefore not in a teaching capacity?”

“I vote yes. The kid needs friends.” Stiles murmured. “While I’m on the subject, I think the other Hales might need friends, too. Derek looked like he was going to pee himself just from talking to me earlier. He asked me to befriend Cora. I said that most of my students are kind of my friends, anyway. I guess I shouldn’t even let this bug me.” He gestured to his computer, indicating Scott. “But there’s obviously a difference there. Erica and Jackson keep trying to hit on me and I just ignore that.” 

“Erica and Jackson are the two most hormone-driven kids I’ve ever seen in my life.” Allison said in amazement, shaking her head. “And I’m also kind of amazed that Scott isn’t. He just seems to keep falling for people that he shouldn’t be falling for.” She looked back at Stiles. “I didn’t realize how many lonely people there were in this town. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt, you know? To befriend them. And anyway, we’re not completely abnormal. We’re friends, and now we’ve got Lydia.” She paused. “At least I hope we do, it’d be nice if we did.”

“I think we do. I don’t think she’s the type of person to spend time around anyone she doesn’t want to.” Stiles smiled. “Lunch was pretty good. I’m going to look into ways to keep Harris gone.” 

“Oh, god, please do.” Allison laughed. “Given a choice between Lydia and having Harris back… well, there isn’t really a choice, it’s Lydia all the way.”

Stiles logged into his new character and added Scott to a group, then did the same with Allison when she was logged in. “I’m starting to get too hopeful, too. I'm picturing raid teams.” 

Allison’s eyes gleamed. “I wonder who else we can get to join?” She pondered, tapping a finger against her bottom lip. She typed, ‘hello Scott,’ into the chat with her free hand and couldn’t help smiling when Scott excitedly greeted her back with excessive exclamation points. “Any of the other kids seem like they’d enjoy the indiscriminate killing of hostile NPCs? Maybe we can get Lydia in on this.” She grinned slyly. “You could talk to Derek and see if he and his sisters would join in.”

Stiles laughed. “It gives them a chance to be social while being anti-social. I like it. But we’re still dragging the older ones out to the bar at least once. I think that Erica could be convinced. Maybe if I offer one extra credit point per level they reach over the holiday break? Or is that too much, maybe? It kinda leaves out kids whose parents won’t let them play it.” 

Allison leaned forward at the table. “We could have Scott do it.” She suggested. “You know, tell him we’re looking for more people - and, well, we are - and then maybe he’ll feel confident enough to talk about it with the others. With Erica at least. She seems intimidating enough to the other students by herself to convince them to play by sheer will.”

Stiles laughed. “Yeah. We’ve got what, about a hundred, hundred and forty students, altogether?” 

Allison tapped at the keyboard, bored as she made her way through the tutorial. “Roughly, yeah, I believe so.” She agreed. “If Scott - and by extension Erica - can convince at least half of them to join up and play, that would give us roughly… two full groups for a twenty-five man raid, and another full group counting us and the remaining kids. And if we can get the rest of them to join, that’s another two and a half groups right there.”

Stiles laughed at Allison’s enthusiasm, not bothering to correct her math. “I’ll mention again tomorrow that I play. You might want to bring it up, too.” 

Allison smiled back at him sheepishly. “I’ll do that.” She murmured. “I know probably none of that was right, but all I keep thinking is ‘Things to do! People to do them with!’”

“We need to get out of our houses more often.” Stiles nodded. “But, uh, you can’t have a half-group. Anyway. Oh, tell them how the in-game wars relate to real ones!”

Allison lit up. “Shit, yes! Oh, god, all the lore I’m going to have to look up.” She looked positively delirious with excitement. “This is the best Christmas present ever.” She teased him, grinning.


	3. Wednesday, December 6th

Stiles wondered, the next morning, why he and Allison even bothered having separate houses. They got along well enough to be roommates and she was over at his place enough that he was certain everyone thought they were dating. He had heard more than one remark about it, over the past year. He went through the usual routine with her, making coffee and Eggos before they had to get to work at the high school. He finished what was left in his thermos, rubbing his eyes and fighting the urge to put his head down on his desk. He had been awake most of the night, helping Scott get to level fifteen. He wouldn't have been surprised if the teen was absent. He didn’t have that luxury.

“Well, you and Allison both look terrible.” Lydia commented, setting a sheet of paper down on the desk in front of him. “Were you drinking again?” 

“No, just playing World of Warcraft.” Stiles muttered, glancing up at her and doing a double take when she gave him a nod of understanding. “You play?” 

“I have one toon. I know it’s customary to have several, but I see no need for that. I prefer not to be sitting around too much, so I give myself two hours on Saturdays, if I have nothing else to do.” Lydia smiled. “I’m always busy, though. She’s level thirty-eight.” She pointed to the paper. “This is about the faculty party. If you attend, I’ll ignore what I told you, yesterday.” 

Stiles was suddenly wide awake and sitting up straight. “I’ll be there.” 

Lydia laughed. “Good. Stop sitting down, it’s too easy for you to fall asleep that way.” She advised, leaving the room. 

“God, she’s hot.” Jackson blurted as he stepped into the room, just moments after Lydia had exited, his neck still craned around to stare at her. “Why are all the teachers in this dump so damn hot?”

“To torture you, obviously.” Cora replied, breezing past him without a single glance. “You and your hair-trigger hormones.”

Stiles wanted to point out that if everyone was hot, the school couldn’t really be considered a dump, but he knew better than to indulge Jackson when he was saying - well, anything. “Did either of you bring in your gifts for other people today? And the essays?” 

Cora nodded and reached into her bag, pulling out a carefully wrapped package and her essay with one hand and setting it on her desk. “Finished the essay yesterday afternoon and got the gift just after that. Are we giving them out today?”

“Yeah, you can.” Stiles nodded. “You wrote your third paragraph before you got the gift, though?” He gave her a curious look. “It was supposed to be about your experiences in the store.” 

Cora grinned. “It was. Technically. I had the essay on me while I was shopping, but I didn’t feel like writing everything out while I walked. I’m pretty sure I looked crazy, but I used the voice recorder on my phone to dictate everything I did experience, right up to purchasing and gift wrapping. So… again, technically, I finished the essay before I got the gift. I just didn’t put it to paper until I was home again.”

Stiles nodded. “That was a good idea. Is it all right if I mention you when I suggest it to everyone else?” 

Cora blinked. “Oh… uh, yeah, sure.” She replied hesitantly. “I mean, if you want to. I don’t mind.”

“I just don’t want to embarrass you. I hated when teachers did that to me. Of course, in my case? It was more like, ‘Mr. Stilinski, is there a reason you’re talking instead of listening?’ I take pride in the fact that it’s my job now to talk for seven straight hours and nobody can stop me.” Stiles looked around, studying all sides of the room, just to verify once more that nobody had been left out of the gift-receiving process. He still wasn’t sure what to get for Allison, either. And then the idea occurred to him and he smiled to himself. 

“I don’t mind,” Cora murmured again, and tried to give Stiles a small smile, her lips turning up at the corners.

Scott had been one of the last few into the classroom, and he lifted his head, his eyes drowsy and bloodshot from the night before. “So should we wait ‘til the end of class to exchange gifts, or should we do it first?” He asked Stiles curiously, his eyes locked on the older man.

Stiles gave Scott a sympathetic look. “We’ll do the gifts right after I talk a little bit about some other things. You’re going to end up hearing a similar discussion from Ms. Argent today, but I think it’ll be worth hearing it twice.” He stood up, walking around a little to try to wake himself up. “I’ve mentioned before that I play World of Warcraft. It’s a way to be social without having to leave your house, which is great in winter.” He smiled. “I gave thought to offering extra credit to anyone who plays over the holiday break, one point per level you reach. And no way of lying because I’d be able to see what level you’re at. But since not everyone has cool parents, I have a feeling that it’s just going to upset those of you who wouldn’t be able to play. Instead, I’m going to just say that if you want to play it, I really do recommend it. I’m even willing to play the game with you. The lore involved is pretty incredible, and being an English teacher, I’m probably supposed to tell you how creative the writing is. But I don’t care that much about that aspect of the game. When you’re up at two am with insomnia and the only thing you can think of to do is play the game, you’ll get to see a starry night sky from the top of a mountain. And someone had to take the time to do that artwork. Storytelling is a big deal to me, but when you don’t have words, you still have pictures. I know that I could just go outside and look up at the sky, but that’s the universe and a hell of a lot of people like to argue about why it exists. With this game, you know someone took the time to create that world.” 

Just like Stiles and Allison had expected, Erica’s reaction was enthusiastic, and one of the first. “How much is it, what do I have to do? Do I get to stab shit?”

Stiles laughed. “It’s not very expensive, for all that you get to do. And yes, you can stab things. You’re probably better off making a rogue. They also can steal.” 

Erica’s eyes gleamed, and a toothy grin spread across her face. “Badass,” she whispered, leaning back in her seat. “See you in computer-land, Mister S.”

Stiles smiled back. “Good.” He nodded to Erica. “Now, onto the gifts. Bring your purchases up here and I’ll distribute them once I make sure I give you credit for getting them. This is the last time I’m going to mention the extra credit essay about your perception and how it changed, regarding the person who wanted the thing you got them. If you don’t do it, then you don’t.” He shrugged. “There will be more later on, because I actually believe in students giving a hundred and ten percent, and you can’t do that if you don’t have enough extra credit.” 

The students followed Stiles’ request, each one wandering up to the front and turning in the gifts they’d purchased and wrapped, lingering at Stiles’ desk long enough to see that they’d received their extra credit before making their way back to their own desks.

Scott looked a little embarrassed and shy as he approached the front, scratching at his chin nervously. “I, um. I got something for you, too, sir.” He said softly. “But I’d rather give it to you… uh, without the audience.”

“After class, then.” Stiles smiled faintly, wondering if it was a good or bad thing that the line he wouldn’t cross still seemed to be a little slanted. At least he was sticking to the rules he’d set in place for himself and Allison, the night before. He turned his attention to the wrapped gifts, sighing because he knew he was about to wreck a lot of good moods. “Okay.” He stood up, taking a deep breath. “I understand that part of the fun of unwrapping presents is getting to know what’s under the paper, seeing someone’s face light up when they get exactly what they wanted and all of that. And the mess afterward is fun, too.” He snorted. “Uh, but the thing is, if you got someone a gift, then they know what’s in the box already. Mostly. And as much as I wanna congratulate a lot of you on wrapping these presents like pros, I have to give you the bad news right now. No more wrapping paper.” He held his hands up, shaking his head. “I would love to let you keep doing it like this for the next two days, but I grew up around cops. Wrapped boxes being brought into a high school by a bunch of volatile teenagers makes most adults kind of wary. So bring in the presents on Thursday and Friday without paper, all right?” 

“Can we use gift bags?” Erica squinted at him. “Like, with tissue paper? Or just, like… any bag? Clear? Something? It could still be kinda fun tossing the bags around, right? And that way if someone wants to check this crap, they can at least look inside, and then put it right back in when it doesn’t look, uh, volatile or whatever?”

“I think that’s acceptable.” Stiles agreed, nodding. “Okay. Yes, gift bags. No, wrapping paper.” He started reading off names of students who needed to come up to get their gifts. Once they were distributed, he grabbed one of his books from his messenger bag and turned to a story he wanted to read to his class. 

Cora leaned forward with interest, her eyes on Stiles’ hands as he reached for the book, and she propped her chin on her hand, settling comfortably and readying herself to listen. Mentally, she reminded herself to bring in a slew of the cupcakes that her teachers had apparently requested. 

“Before I do this...” Stiles glanced at Cora and smiled, then looked around the room. “Cora had a great idea and she’s given me permission to exploit her for a minute. She recorded her reactions through audio when she was buying a gift, and she used her audio notes to write her final paragraph. It’s something that a lot of people do, so that they can write their reports later. It might not hurt to record yourselves. I’d also suggest recording things I say here, but I know I swear too much and I don’t want you using that against me. So pay attention in class.” 

Scott looked affronted at the idea that anyone would take advantage of Stiles, sputtering a little from his seat in the back until Erica elbowed him hard in the side. He wheezed out a breath and rested his head on the desk, falling silent.

Cora watched, biting her lower lip in amusement and trying vainly not to laugh out loud.

Erica looked back up at Stiles, beaming and looking pleased with herself. “So, voice recording in class is a good thing? Sweet. What about for tests? Can we do it then, too?” Her lips twitched.

“No recording me.” Stiles repeated. “If I see any recorders or hear the clicking of a recorder, or if I even _think_ I hear the clicking of a recorder, I will start singing as badly as possible for the entire class period. I have no shame, and you’ll be stuck with a useless recording. Don’t waste everyone’s time that way. I'm going to read you one of my favorite Christmas stories, The Gift of the Magi. We’ll discuss it and O. Henry tomorrow, so be ready for that.” 

Erica pouted, but settled down and relaxed in her seat to listen.

Cora grinned faintly at Stiles, murmuring, “I love that story,” under her breath.

“There’s something you love?” Jackson snorted, glancing at her.

Cora scowled. “Yeah, actually. And right now, I’m loving the idea of jamming my pen up your nostril and into your brain cavity, you worm.”

Jackson glowered back at her.

“Okay!” Stiles blurted, smiling deviously as he realized what had just happened. “Both of you, into the Grinch corner!” 

Cora’s eyes went wide, and her mouth fell open. “Seriously?” She blurted, looking betrayed, even as she started to get up.

“Oh, this is bull-” Jackson started, grunting and stumbling against a desk amid a sea of suddenly innocent-looking students.

Cora couldn’t help the mean smirk on her face as she walked past Jackson, moving into the corner Stiles had spoken of. The smirk disappeared, and she sulkily scowled as she sat down again, arms crossed over her chest with a sigh.

Stiles held back from giving Cora an apologetic look, deciding that he would talk to her later. If she avoided him and hurried from the room, he would just go over to the Hale house after school. He started reading, smiling to himself when the room was quiet, all of the students listening to the story. It was a short one, and he finished with two minutes left in the class period. “Okay, we’ll talk about it tomorrow. Go ahead and start gathering your things - you too, Cora and Jackson - and you can leave now, if you want.” He glanced at Scott, suddenly curious about what the teenager had as a gift for him. 

Cora stopped in front of his desk, looking both annoyed and apologetic, and not entirely happy with feeling either emotion. “Thank you for reading that.” She said stiffly, fidgeting in place. “I really do like the story. And…” she sighed. “I guess I shouldn’t have let Jackass - Jackson - get on my nerves enough to get sent into the corner like that. So… sorry.”

“To be honest, I don’t care that much.” Stiles shrugged one shoulder at her. “But if I ignore that you said that, he goes to the principal and starts a bunch of shit about how you threatened his life and I heard it and didn’t do anything, and then we’re all being pulled into the office to answer questions and really? I actually am required to report it when one student threatens another, regardless of how serious they sound, or not at all. I don’t want to deal with that, so I stuck you both in the corner. If he still tries to start shit, now everyone knows that I treated you both like babies for bickering and nobody can say otherwise.” 

Cora grimaced, but nodded and sighed. “I understand. It’s as much to save your ass as it is to save ours, basically.” She shifted in place. “He’s still a worm.”

Stiles glanced around carefully, then nodded. “Yep. But I have to teach everybody that comes through that door, whether I like them or not. He’s not the worst student I’ve ever had, if that’s any comfort to you at all. Even if it’s not, it’s still good enough for me.” He laughed. “I’m glad you stopped to talk to me, because I wanted to explain myself and I would have had to track you down after school. I’m not trying to make your life more difficult. You haven’t given me cause.” 

Cora smiled a little, shrugging. “I don’t have reason to. You… don’t make me miserable, so I suppose you’re pretty okay.” She murmured, and her smile widened a little. “There have been students _worse_ than Jackson Whittemore?”

“Yeah.” Stiles grinned. “I’ll tell you about one of them if you come back to school tomorrow.” 

Cora grinned back and nodded. “Deal.” She told him. “And that’s really easy to decide, since Harris is out.”

“Have you ever filed a report against him for his harassment?” Stiles looked intrigued. “Because if you haven’t, today is the day when you start. If anyone in that office says anything about it, tell them to call Sheriff Stilinski and verify the statute of limitations on reports like this. In fact, tell everyone else to file reports about him, too. Legitimate ones, no bullshit.” 

Cora chewed on her lower lip thoughtfully and nodded. “I haven’t before because I didn’t really want to… draw that kind of attention to myself.” She cleared her throat, and then smiled awkwardly. “It kinda seems like, uh, people in positions of power enjoy targeting members of my family because it’s happened before, to my brother and my sister. And… I’m not exactly Harris’ type, but that didn’t really stop him from… making certain…” She trailed off, looking uncomfortable. “Demands. Of me.”

Stiles’ jaw clenched. “Okay, hold on.” He called his dad’s cell phone. “I need you to come to the school, or send... um, send someone?” He was going to say Parrish, but the name stuck in his throat, even now. “I don’t need to know all of the details, I just know that you might be here awhile, taking statements from a lot of students. I have a feeling it’s not just the one.” 

John was silent for a long moment after Stiles spoke, but then let out an affirming grunt. “I’ll be there as soon as possible.”

“Okay.” Stiles murmured, hanging up. He would have gone with his usual ‘love you, bye’ response, but he was more focused on making sure Cora was all right. “I don’t need full details, it’s not my place. I’m going to send my next class to the library. You can talk to my dad in here.” He blinked when he saw Scott, having forgotten all about him from the moment Cora’s words made him see red. “Uh... just sit down. Get comfortable, you know?” He told Cora, gesturing for Scott to follow him into the hallway. 

“Thanks, Stiles.” Cora said softly, taking a seat and twisting her fingers together. She watched silently as Scott glanced back at her in concern, before he followed quietly after Stiles.

The younger man looked up at Stiles nervously. “Is she going to be okay?” He asked softly, taking a deep breath and glancing back toward the door of the classroom. “I mean - I won’t - I’m not going to say anything to anyone. I swear.”

“I think she’ll be all right.” Stiles murmured. “She took the first step and told someone she trusts, and it’s going to be a little bit harder over the next couple of weeks. But him not being here will help her. And I’m not going to be too surprised when other girls start filing reports, too. I feel like shit that I never noticed, but I do make a point of avoiding him, myself. I just wonder how many other girls I’ve let slip through the cracks since I started teaching...” He grimaced. “But that’s not anything for you to worry about. You said you had something for me?” 

Scott nodded and swallowed a little nervously, reaching into his backpack and digging out a shoddily wrapped package with too much tape and not enough paper covering the ends. “It’s - I mean, I don’t think it getting bent will ruin it, but I saw it and thought you’d really like it, so…” He thrust the package at Stiles, shaking a little and blushing. “Here.”

Stiles took the gift, unwrapping it carefully. He stared at it for a few seconds, admiring the detail of the messenger bag with the familiar ‘W’ on the leather tag, near the bottom of the bag’s flap. “Thank you.” He murmured, looking up at Scott. “This is something I thought about getting a few times for myself, but I never did. But you just started playing last night, didn’t you?” 

Scott fidgeted. “I’ve… actually been a fan for awhile? And… I had a trial account a few years ago, but I let it lapse because I kinda sucked and I didn’t really have anyone else to play with. I picked it back up again last night.” His cheeks turned a darker shade of red. “I maybe sort of… bought this for you right before Thanksgiving.”

“Oh.” Stiles smiled. “Well, now you’ll be able to play with me and a few other people.” He realized how that might sound to anyone who didn’t know the context of the conversation, and he faltered. “You should get to class. I really do like this. Thank you again.” 

Scott took a deep breath and beamed at Stiles. “You’re welcome. Really.” He breathed out. Starting to back up, he stumbled when he slammed into a locker, and then let out an awkward laugh when he righted himself and kept going around the corner. Several minutes later, he came back, pointing past Stiles and looking embarrassed. “Wrong way,” he blurted and sped past the teacher.

Stiles leaned back against lockers, right outside his door, and told all of his second period students to go to the library as they approached. He assured them that he would be there eventually, and that they should just do whatever homework they had been assigned in their first class. He felt a little sick to his stomach, thinking of how he had been teetering on the line that he didn’t dare cross, while another teacher had lived his life miles past the line. He felt frustrated and wanted to talk to Allison, but she was busy teaching and he didn’t dare leave the doorway until his dad showed up, not wanting Cora to be entirely alone. 

John marched into the school, a serious expression on his face as he searched the hallways for his son’s classroom. When he spotted Stiles, he beelined toward him, clasping a hand over Stiles’ shoulder. “You wanna give me an idea of what I’m walking into so I don’t go in blind, kiddo?” He asked softly, his eyes gentling.

“Yeah. Nobody likes Harris because he’s always been a dick, but apparently he’s been doing most of his thinking with it, too.” Stiles said bluntly. “Cora Hale just told me that Harris liked to demand that she do things. I don’t know if she did them, and I don’t want or need to know, that’s not my place. Besides, if I did find out, you’d probably have to arrest me for murder. I don’t want that and neither do you. I have to go take care of my class in the library. If Cora needs to talk to me, tell her where to find me, after she’s done talking to you. I think you might want to look through any reports filed against him over the years and talk to other female students. I’m only assuming he didn’t go after guys...” He bit his lip. “But I wouldn’t rule it out entirely.” 

“Jesus christ.” John muttered, exhaling. “Noted. I’ll go in and talk to Cora, and then take a look at any other reports there are - and there probably will be, because men like Harris aren’t exactly… known for one-offs.” He frowned and shook his head. “Poor kid. Go on, take care of your class. I’ll send you a text when I’m done and to let you know if Cora’s headed your way.”

Stiles nodded and hugged his dad, then decided to take the long way around to the library. He stopped outside Allison’s classroom, waving to her to get her attention. 

Allison looked up just in time to see Stiles’ gesture, and then looked back at her class. “Guys, I’ll be right back. Read pages three-seventeen to three-thirty-eight silently, and then do the work on page three-thirty-nine and three-forty, questions one through forty for homework.” She stepped out of the room silently and closed the door, furrowing her brows together in concern. “What’s wrong?”

“Cora’s talking to my dad about how Harris was crossing that line that we agreed not to.” Stiles said quietly, frowning. “I kind of want to murder him right now. I have to go take care of my class, but if you can find a tactful way to mention reporting harassment, that would be really good.” 

Allison’s hand was over her mouth, and she nodded jerkily. “Yeah, of course I’ll say something. Harris really - jesus christ. I knew he was a slimy bastard, I just didn’t think… Oh my god, poor Cora.” She muttered, and ran a hand over her face, exhaling heavily. 

Stiles nodded. “Yeah. So I’m going to try to find a tactful way to talk to my classes for the rest of the day, and make sure Cora’s all right. Can you kind of keep an eye on Scott, too? He overheard some things and I don’t want him freaking out.” 

Allison nodded again. “Yeah, I will, of course I will. That - that snake,” she muttered. “If you do end up hunting him down, I’m coming with you.”

“Let’s hold off until we get a count of how many girls file reports, first.” Stiles suggested. “So we know how badly we need to kick his ass. Cora’s treatment earned him a punch in the face, anything more than forty and I might have to find a way to illegally obtain a cannon.” 

“What about a flamethrower?” Allison asked. “Would that be more doable?”

“Yes, very.” Stiles muttered. “By the way, I know what I’m getting you now, so when do you want to exchange gifts?” 

“Uh…” Allison faltered. “I need a little more time to get you yours, but I’m thinking maybe the last Friday before Christmas? Or hell, maybe on Christmas?”

“Fair enough, just let me know when you’re ready, then.” Stiles murmured. “Scott got me a new messenger bag.” 

Allison blinked. “A new messenger bag?” She asked. “Like, brand new. Uh-oh.” She blinked again, and then again rapidly. “I haven’t seen him yet. That… probably means he’s got something for me, too, doesn’t it?” She looked a little worried at the thought. “What do I do? How did you react? What did you say? What do _I_ say?”

“Just say ‘thank you.’” Stiles advised. “We’ll go get him something while we’re plotting Harris’ death.” 

Allison breathed out, nodding slowly. “Okay. Yeah, okay.” She murmured. She folded her arms over her chest and leaned back against the wall, frowning. “How do you think Cora’s doing?” She asked after a while. 

“I don’t know.” Stiles looked frustrated. “I have to go take care of my class, and you need to take care of yours. I just have to go.” He repeated, walking away as his frustration grew. 

Allison stared after him for a bit, and then sucked in a deep breath and stepped back inside her classroom, forcing a smile onto her face. 

A text came through on Stiles’ phone from John several minutes later. ‘She’s brave. Held herself together the whole time, even though she looked like she wanted to cry. We’re done with the questioning and she’s on her way to you now. I’ll be speaking with the principal before I look at any records and complaints. Any students that want to come speak to me can come find me here before five, or at the Sheriff’s station any time.’

‘Thank you.’ Stiles glanced at the time on his phone after he sent his response to his dad. He dismissed his class and thought about the days when he was in high school and how Harris had made his life hell, giving him detention at least once a week. He had been racking his brain for the past hour, wondering if the other teacher’s behavior had started more recently, or if it had been noticeable that Stiles’ classmates were suffering, and he just hadn’t paid attention. He waited near the doorway of the library for Cora. 

Cora approached him slowly, looking drained and a little miserable, but also like the weight had been lifted off of her shoulders. She stared at Stiles blankly for a second before her lower lip trembled and she fell forward into his arms, burying her face in his chest. 

Stiles hugged Cora automatically, feeling even more miserable about the past few days. “Do you want me to call your brother or your sister and have one of them come get you?” 

Cora paused and then shook her head slowly. “Can you - I can just - I don’t want to go to the rest of my classes.” She mumbled. “But I don’t want to go home. Not yet. I want to - can I - please stay here with you?”

Stiles wanted to tell her that it wasn’t possible, that he still had classes to teach, but he couldn’t bring himself to do that. At least, not exactly. “You can stay in my classroom all day, but I have to teach my other classes. I wouldn’t bother, but I have the gift swap to take care of. On a bright note for you, you’ll get to hear The Gift of the Magi at least two more times.” 

Cora smiled shakily. “I wouldn’t mind that.” She murmured. 

Stiles kept a hand on Cora’s shoulder as he walked down the hall with her, back to his classroom. “If anyone asks you any questions that you don’t want to answer, I’ll deal with them. Just raise your hand and give me a name when I call on you.” 

Cora nodded, her movements jerky, and she couldn’t help but press closer into Stiles’ side. “Okay.” She agreed. She wasn’t certain of anyone would dare to say anything to her as it was - other than Jackson Whittemore, and thanks to Stiles, her contact with the other boy would be limited for at least the day - but she was grateful to Stiles for his offer in any case.

By the final bell, a few more girls had come forward to make their own statements, and Stiles’ classroom had somehow become their go-to place afterward. Word had spread quickly, despite his best efforts to keep everything quiet, and he had sent a couple of students to the principal’s office for comments they made toward the girls. He needed a drink or five.

Cora had stayed glued to his side - so to speak - for the rest of the day, her eyes wide and nervous and only relaxing when her older brother stepped through the door of the classroom, looking worried. 

Derek’s gaze flicked around the room until he spotted his younger sister before rushing to her side and gathering her close. He looked up at Stiles. “What’s going on?” He asked, frowning. “What happened today? All I got was a call from the principal’s office saying that Laura or I had to come down to pick Cora up.” He brushed a hand through Cora’s hair, glancing down at her. 

“Right, but don’t you guys do that every day, anyway?” Stiles glanced around pointedly at the other students hurrying through the hallways, toward their buses and cars. “You probably could have gotten here sooner.” 

Derek grimaced apologetically. “I could’ve, yes.” He sighed. “I had a job interview at one in Shasta, and it took me too long to get back. I got the message right after I left. I don’t know what Laura’s excuse is. Stiles, what happened today?”

“Your sister is capable of speaking for herself. Unless she doesn’t want to. Cora?” Stiles glanced at the brunette. “He’s going to find out eventually, it may as well come from you. But if you can’t say it, I will.” 

Cora’s mouth opened and closed a few times, and she looked up at Derek, taking a deep breath. “The - the sheriff was here today, because Stiles called him.” She started. “Called him here for me, or - not just me but initially because of me. And… it was because… of the, um…” She faltered, taking another deep breath. “Those… issues I had with Harris weren’t just because I had trouble with the class.”

Derek was silent for a moment, staring at his younger sister. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying, and if you are, do I need to get a lawyer?”

Cora shuddered a little and avoided looking at either Stiles or Derek. “It might be a good plan.” She said softly. 

“Nobody is mad at you.” Stiles blurted. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m not going to lie, some lawyer is going to treat you like shit if this goes to court, they’re going to try to paint a picture of Harris being some kind of saint and you corrupting him, somehow. But the more of you girls that come forward, the less credible that’s going to become for him.” 

Derek rubbed a hand over Cora’s back, hugging her tightly. He looked at Stiles. “We could always find incriminating evidence to add to their credibility. Men like Harris don’t just stop, even when they’ve been caught out. They think they’re invincible, they keep _doing_ things like this because they think they can’t be touched. I guarantee you that sack of shit will probably be somewhere tonight, trying to ruin another girl’s life. All we’d need to do is catch him in the act.”

“I understand where you’re coming from, with this.” Stiles murmured. “But Harris isn’t even in town right now, I don’t know where he is and I don’t care. You can play spy games on your own time, Cora needs to be your focus right now. Not vengeance.” 

Derek let out a slow breath and then buried his face against Cora’s temple, keeping her close. “No. You’re right.” He said softly. “Cora’s more important.”

Cora curled against him, opening her eyes and peering at Stiles as she clung to her brother. ‘Thank you.’ She mouthed. 

Stiles nodded, smiling tensely. “All right.” He murmured. “I need to go find a few people and get out of here. Don’t forget to come back tomorrow, so I can tell you about people worse than Jackson.” He told Cora solemnly, before he smiled. “Try to sleep tonight. Tomorrow might suck a little, too. But I’m going to be here, and so will Ms. Argent and Ms. Martin.” 

Cora smiled back at him softly and nodded. “Thank you.” She said again, out loud this time. “I’ll be here.”

Derek looked up at Stiles gratefully and stood, helping Cora up. He didn’t know what to say or how to express how appreciative he was for everything Stiles was doing for Cora. “If there’s… if I can do anything to… thank you for being there for her?” He trailed off, uncertain of how to continue. What could he offer? He didn’t even know where he was going with his sentence when he’d started it. 

“I’m not looking for anything.” Stiles shook his head, thinking of Scott’s gift from earlier in the day. He left the room, his messenger bag from that morning folded up in his hands and the one from Scott being used to carry everything he had brought in. He walked into Allison’s classroom, finally letting himself look as exhausted as he felt. “We’re buying alcohol and going to my house.” He muttered. “A big bottle. But we’re limiting ourselves to no more than ten shots.” 

“Noted.” Allison looked tired, too, as she glanced back at Stiles. She stared back down at her desk, frowning deeply. “This is not how I thought today was going to turn out.” She was silent for a moment, and then added, “Also, tequila.”

“You can have tequila, I’m doing rum and Coke. The soda, not the other kind. Although that’s a little bit tempting.” Stiles gestured with his thumb and index finger. “Bad day. Did Scott give you a present, too?” 

Allison groaned, nodding. “You know the skater dress and leggings that I keep logging into the Blizzard store to coo over? The ones that look like Sylvanas’ armor that I always manage to talk myself _out_ of buying because no matter how much I want it, I can’t justify buying it?”

“Yeah.” Stiles turned to the side, showing off the new messenger bag. “I know exactly what you mean. In light of everything today, I think we should give this stuff back.” 

Allison let out a low whine. “I know. I know we should. It’s for the best.”

“So first thing tomorrow, he’ll be in my class and I can give him both gifts back at once.” Stiles nodded, feeling glum. He started walking toward the exit closest to the faculty lot. “All day, I’ve been thinking about how I had Harris as a teacher and he was an asshole back then, but I have no recollection of him being inappropriate with girls back then. I had detention from him all the time.” 

Allison shuffled after him, looking miserable. “Maybe he was better at hiding it then. Maybe he just got sloppier as time went on.” She thought of Cora. “Or maybe the girls got braver.”

“Yeah, I think that’s what happened.” Stiles frowned. “Okay, I know waiting was important to you, for gifts. But I’m going to get yours right now. Meet me at my house with the alcohol and I’ll pay you back for mine?” 

Allison huffed out a laugh and nodded. “Okay.” She murmured. “I’ll see you in a bit, then.” She tapped her knuckles lightly against his before she peeled off and headed toward her own car. 

Stiles drove to the hardware store, paying a dollar and fifty cents, plus sales tax, for Allison’s gift. He stopped at one of the machines and spent the last twenty-five cents of his allotted money on a temporary tattoo for her, smiling faintly to himself as he got back into his Jeep. He grabbed the keychain he had made and attached the key to it, then drove home and walked toward Allison, holding the key out to her. “You’re over here all the time and you’re like family to me, so I figured it was well past time for you to have a key to my place. I made the keychain out of tape I already had laying around, so I didn’t spend any money on that.” He handed her the temporary tattoo. “And this is also something I got, without overspending.” 

Allison stared at the items, and let out a soft laugh, a smile spreading across her face. “Oh… this is - Stiles.” She took the key, clutching it tightly, and stared down at it and the tattoo with a silly smile on her face. She looked up again, and then reached out to hug him. “I so can’t even top this. This means so much to me. Thank you.” She pulled back, smiling. “Best present ever.”

Stiles smiled. “I was going to unlock the door, but I think you should do it.” He teased. “We’ve had a rough day and I just want to drink and make fun of stupid sitcoms. I don’t want to look at World of Warcraft or think about it. Or Scott. Or how we’re only marginally better than Harris.” 

Allison squeezed the key a little tighter and looked at him intently. “We _are_ better than Harris. Even if it is marginally. We could’ve given in way earlier and acted on… whatever this is with Scott. We aren’t encouraging it.” She winced a little, thinking of accepting the younger man’s friend request in game. “Not… purposely, anyway.” She sighed. “Or maybe we are. I don’t know anymore.” She shook her head, looked back down at the key, and couldn’t help smiling at it before she moved toward the front door and stuck it in the lock. The door opened easily, and she beamed and held up her bag when she looked back at Stiles. “Booze and sitcoms. I got your rum and Coke, I’ve got my tequila and some margarita mix, I’m ready to mock stupid characters and boo at people that don’t actually exist.”

“Good, but we’re seriously giving ourselves a limit.” Stiles insisted. “I’ll make dinner.” He hesitated. “Uh, go ahead and call Lydia and see if she wants to come over, too. But don’t push, you know? I think I’m going to tell her that... well, she basically offered to sleep with me, this morning. Not this morning. The offer, yes, I mean. God, I’m tired. I just don’t know if I can even think about sex right now, which really says something.” 

Allison laughed softly. “Then we’ll invite her over and see if she wants to boo the tv with us. While limiting our drinks. And… if she doesn’t want to come, she doesn’t have to, but at least she’ll know she’s welcome.” She set the bottles down and tugged out her phone, sending Lydia a quick text message. ‘Feel like coming over to Stiles’ house and hanging out with us?’

‘I’m bringing Thai food.’ Lydia texted back. ‘I don’t trust Stiles not to make me eat waffles for dinner.’ 

Allison choked on a snort and held her phone up for Stiles to read the message.

Stiles snorted and held his hand out for the phone, texting Lydia what he and Allison were going to want from the only local Thai restaurant. He handed Allison’s phone back to her, laughing softly. “Derek Hale might have hit on me today. It was weird and I ignored the hell out of it.” 

Allison raised her eyebrows, taking the phone and placing it to the side before she reached into Stiles’ cabinet for shot glasses. “Weird how? He was weird about it? What did he say?”

“I don’t remember the whole thing exactly.” Stiles admitted. “But the gist was like, ‘thanks for taking care of my sister while she’s dealing with sexual assault, I wanna pay you back for this somehow and thank you.’ I know it wasn’t exactly that, but I felt weird about it. I mean, I’m standing there, my books in the bag that a teenager with a crush on me gave me, and the only thing preventing me from pursuing him is his age, while another teenager is dealing with fallout from admitting that another teacher touched her without her permission, and someone who actually is old enough to date me is kind of asking me out because he thinks he owes me? It’s fucking Wednesday. We have at least two more days of this.” 

Allison rubbed her eyes. “Jeez.” She muttered. “Well… maybe it isn’t that he owes you? Maybe he wasn’t actually asking you out, I don’t know, maybe it was just, like… actual gratitude?” She made a face. “I wasn’t there, I know, and I’m not Derek so obviously I don’t know what’s going on in his head, but… maybe he’s just really bad at being appreciative. And talking to people.”

“Yeah, probably.” Stiles agreed. He eyed his new messenger bag, then started loading his things back into the old one. “I hope Scott doesn’t hate us for this.” 

Allison was quiet, her shoulders slumping a little. “What if he does?” She asked softly. “I don’t want him to, but what if he can’t stand to look at us after this? What if he… transfers out of our classes because of it?”

“Then at least we know we’re not as bad as Harris. And one day, he’ll understand that. I think.” Stiles muttered.


	4. Thursday, December 7th

Stiles felt nervous as he waited for Scott to get to class, the next morning. His messenger bag and Allison’s outfit were in a bag in his desk, and he was going to give it back to Scott and hope like hell that he wasn’t about to upset the teen. But he also knew that was impossible. 

Scott breezed into the classroom, smiling as soon as he spotted Stiles. “Hey, Mister S.” He greeted, his cheeks going rosy. “How are you today?”

Stiles felt relieved that none of the other students were around yet, but he didn’t say that. He got the bag out of his desk drawer and gave Scott a sorrowful look. “Alli- Miss Argent and I can’t accept these gifts. Uh, we want to, but in light of everything from yesterday, we’re worried that we may have been sending you mixed signals.” 

Scott stared down at the bag, and then slowly looked back up at Stiles as the older man’s words registered. “Oh.” He said softly. “That’s - yeah, no. I get it.” He fidgeted. “It’s too much, I went, uh… I went overboard, didn’t I?”

“It’s not that.” Stiles frowned. “The truth is that we really do like the gifts, and we wanted to keep them. But we think it’s a bad idea. Uh, we talked about it, I mean. I don’t want - “ He sighed. “I don’t want to even be compared to Harris. And if I take that gift, if Allison keeps hers, we’re really not better than him.” He realized too late that he had slipped and called Allison by her first name, breaking a rule he had promised himself. He knew that the students knew him and Allison outside of school, that their first names were visible on report cards and letters and yearbooks. But keeping Allison as ‘Miss Argent’ or ‘Ms. Argent’ had been Stiles’ way of drawing a line, the same line he used to keep himself in check. “Shit.” He muttered, sitting back down at his desk and raking his fingers through his hair in frustration. 

Scott listened, furrowing his brows together in confusion. “I don’t understand, though. You aren’t anything like him, either of you. And…” He looked embarrassed, staring down at his feet. “I mean, I get it. I know my, uh… interest is… not exactly appropriate. Toward either of you.” He wrung his hands together, frowning. “I can back off.” He said softly. “I won’t bother you guys except for, like, school stuff. But you don’t have to give those back. They were gifts.”

“Scott.” Stiles looked up at him. “You’re not a bother. Not even close. And we like playing World of Warcraft with you, and Erica’s going to start. Miss Martin already plays. If you think it’s going to cause you problems to do that, you don’t have to. No hard feelings.” 

Scott shook his head. “No, I - I like playing. It’s… it’s nice to have people to play with. I just… I can keep it strictly… teacher-student relations at school. Here.”

Stiles nodded. He glanced at the bag between them on the desk, then put it back into the desk drawer he had been keeping it in. “You’re going to do great things.” He murmured, looking back up at the boy. “And I’m going to take pride in the fact that you were in my class.” 

Scott swallowed roughly and smiled. “You sound like you’re saying goodbye to me.” He pointed out, looking uncertain.

“I’m not trying to.” Stiles frowned, feeling lost. More than once in the past twenty-four hours, he had thought that he should start working for a different school. He would miss all of the students he currently had, but he didn’t trust himself. Every point he had made to Allison had really been something he was just trying to tell himself. Even now, he wanted to kiss the guy on the other side of the desk, and he wasn’t concerned at all about age in that desire. He cleared his throat. “Did you do that extra credit essay?” 

Scott looked confused at the subject change. “I… yeah?” He replied, furrowing his brows together. “I finished it last night.”

“Okay.” Stiles nodded, trying for any normalcy he could grasp onto. “I can read over it now, if you want. Everyone else should be here in a minute, if you want to sit down.” 

Scott nodded slowly and slipped the essay out of his bag before sliding it over to Stiles before taking a seat at his desk and clasping his hands together, his head down.

More students trickled in soon enough, including Cora, who gave Stiles a big, affectionate smile before taking her seat.

Stiles smiled back tensely, then felt guilty because he doubted Cora would understand and he didn’t want to explain it to her. “Okay, if you did the extra credit essay already, turn it in. Anyone who brought gifts, bring them up. We got permission this morning to watch movies all next week, so we’re going to do that. The catch is that everyone has to do a project - and it can be writing an essay, I already asked - about at least one of the movies we watch. You can draw or sculpt, or anything. Make a diorama, I guess. I don’t know. If you have questions, you’ll have to run them past the principal, who has decided to attend these viewings.”

Erica made a face. “He’s going to be in the room with us?” She asked. “Can we go back to studying and pop quizzes?”

“Shut it,” Jackson hissed at her. “I’ll sit in the room with the principal if it means movies all week.”

“Plus a project.” Cora added, staring at him disdainfully.

“Whatever.” Jackson snorted. “Small price to pay.”

“If you want to do something other than watch movies, I think that can be arranged, too.” Stiles said gently. 

Erica squinted. “Like what?” She asked curiously.

“Like study in the library.” Scott suggested quietly, keeping his eyes away from Stiles. It was surprisingly hard to do.

“If you can play a musical instrument, maybe you can play a holiday song?” Stiles sat down at his desk, instead of his usual position on it. “So, The Gift of the Magi...” he began, “is one of my favorite stories, and not just around this time of year. Della and Jim loved each other so much that the only things they took pride in were sacrificed to try to make their spouse happy. A few years ago, I was told that Romeo and Juliet was a great love story. I disagree. People are murdered and commit suicide in that one. This story has more love in it, in less pages. I think everyone should aspire to find someone like Jim or Della. It’s okay to have a quiet life, where your big adventure is what to get someone for Christmas.”

Scott sank a little further into his seat, and it felt like his heart was clenching in his chest from wistfulness and want. He found himself nodding in agreement, despite the fact that he’d basically been rejected by two of the most fascinating, most beautiful people he’d ever met in his life.

“Ms. Argent and I made an agreement a few days ago, that we were going to spend a dollar and eighty-seven cents on one another. And before any of you start making stupid noises about it, we’re not dating and we won’t be. We’re more like siblings, really. But I like a challenge and I wanted to see what I could do with the money, without spending any more or any less. I’m not sure what she’s getting me.” Stiles murmured. “Gifts are the only surprises I like.” He glanced at Scott, wondering if the message was getting through to the teen. 

Scott lifted his eyes to look at Stiles and swallowed a little roughly, staring at the older man with a needy expression on his face.

Cora hummed, leaning her head on her hand. “I’ve always loved that about that story.” She murmured. “It’s so much done with so little, and it’s all because you care about the other person and what makes them happy. I want that.”

“I think everyone does. Or they should.” Stiles murmured. He glanced over at Cora, worried that he had locked eyes with Scott for even one second longer than he should have, and that the rest of the class knew what was going on. 

Cora didn’t seem to notice, smiling softly down at her notebook now. “If they don’t, there’s a serious problem.” She replied, letting out a huff of laughter.

Stiles had switched back to his gifted messenger bag after first period, giving Allison back the outfit that Scott had bought for her. He hadn’t felt like trying to get the words out, the explanation that he had messed up and hurt the teen’s feelings, and how he’d had a brief moment where he considered running to the other end of the country to give Scott some breathing room. But his job and his life were in Beacon Hills, and Scott would go on to college and probably forget he ever liked Stiles or Allison in the first place. The rest of the day was filled with his female students asking permission to miss out on his class, to go talk to his dad at the police station. He had made them participate for five minutes, so that he could count them as having attended before he let them go. If the principal didn’t like it, Stiles could not give less of a fuck. With all of the essays he had to grade and all of the double-checking that gifts were accounted for, he didn’t get out of the building until the sun was setting and snow had started to fall. He shivered, wondering where he had left his Santa hat. It was probably at home, instead of being where he needed it. Typical.

A car slowed and pulled over before the overhead light on the inside of the car turned on, and Derek peered out at him curiously. He studied Stiles for a moment before he rolled down his window, uncaring of the snow drifting into his car. “Everything alright?” He called.

“Yeah, I'm fine.” Stiles nodded. “Just a little colder than I expected, but I don’t live too far away.” Of all the mornings for his Jeep to not start, today had to be the day. 

Derek hesitated for a moment, and then said, “I could give you a ride home. If you want, I mean. Even if you don’t live that far away, it’s still a bit too cold to be walking home in this.”

Stiles was going to decline, but a snowflake fell in his eye and he grimaced, wiping it away. “Yeah.” He muttered, walking around the car to get in the passenger side. “Thank you.” 

Derek smiled crookedly and shrugged a shoulder. “It’s not a problem.” He murmured, and shifted the car into gear once Stiles was inside. “I don’t mind.”

“How are things going at home, with Cora?” Stiles glanced over at Derek as he rubbed his hands together and vowed to pick up gloves and a hat, as soon as he could. “She seemed a lot happier today.” 

Derek glanced back at him. “Has a lot to do with you and your dad, honestly.” He replied. “She’s opened up to us and told us everything. It’s… I feel like shit that I didn’t know, that I couldn’t figure out that something wasn’t right.” He looked back out the window. “Probably because I went through the same thing and tried to block it out of my mind.”

“I’ve spent the past couple of days trying to figure out if Harris has always been like this. If there are women my age or older who he manipulated. I guess I don’t want to think too much about it, though. If he’s got any shred of intelligence, he won’t come back here. I know what I said to you before, that Cora’s well-being is more important than vengeance. It is. But that doesn’t mean I won’t personally castrate the bastard for what he did.” Stiles muttered. 

“Yeah.” Derek grunted. “Well, we’re agreed there. I’m supposed to protect my baby sister, and that son of a bitch got his hands on her anyway. I feel sick to my damn stomach, and I’d really like the ability to sprout Wolverine claws and cut his throat out.”

Stiles laughed softly, giving Derek directions to his house. “Focus that energy on a new tradition you can start.” He advised. “Cora said she really likes The Gift of the Magi, so maybe use that, somehow.” 

Derek’s eyes softened. “Our mom used to read it to her when she was little. It’s not a wonder that she loves it.” He looked thoughtfully at Stiles. “I could probably talk Laura into pork chops and applesauce for dinner instead of getting a ham or a turkey or something.” He paused. “Cora’s unusually gleeful when it comes to stabbing a fork into a pork cutlet.”

Stiles snorted. “I’m not at all surprised by that.” He eyed the front of his house as Derek pulled up to it. “I should decorate.” He muttered. “It looks cold. I mean, not weather-wise. It just doesn’t look like a friendly place.” 

Derek looked over at the house. “I mean, you don’t really have to. It’s your house. If you think it should be decorated, then do it because you want to do it, you know?” He paused. “Do you mean the inside of the house or the outside?”

“The outside.” Stiles smiled at Derek. “The inside is a wreck. I live alone. Uh, mostly. Allison’s always over. But we’re not together or anything. Everybody just seems to think that.” 

Derek smiled back faintly. “I can tell. If you were together, I doubt you’d be able to keep your hands off of each other. Apparently a guy and a girl can’t actually be close friends without people assuming things.” He studied the other man. “In my opinion, a man’s home is very rarely ever a wreck. My room, for instance? Organized chaos.”

“Oh, no. Mine is a mess.” Stiles grinned. “But I save my cleaning for weekends.” 

“I gotcha.” Derek grinned back, ducking his head down a little. 

“Thanks again for this.” Stiles got out of the car, closing the door behind him and waving to Derek before he walked up to the front porch and unlocked the door. He started to toss the messenger bag, since that was his usual habit, but he remembered just in time that it was the new one that Scott had given him. He hung up it up carefully, then did the same thing with his coat and wandered through the house, gathering dirty laundry and putting it in the washing machine. He had lied about his house being a mess, mostly to be funny - but also because he didn’t want to invite Derek in. He wasn’t sure what he was doing, but Scott’s facial expressions that morning were cycling through his memory. 

‘You home?’ Allison texted him minutes later. ‘I’m only asking to be polite, your car isn’t in the driveway and I’m stalking your front door right now.’

‘Jeep’s still being worked on. I was going to walk home, but Derek drove me. Just come in here.’ Stiles replied, then turned around a few times, trying to decide if he wanted a Christmas tree and where he would even put it. 

Allison stepped inside the house, still looking awed and delighted as she used her new key. She looked up and spotted Stiles immediately. “Derek, huh?” She had no innuendo in her voice, and she wasn’t insinuating anything - her voice was filled with genuine curiosity as she carefully pocketed her keys and shut the door behind her.

“I was walking, he pulled up by me and offered to drive me home. Probably because I was shaking like a crack addict in need of a fix.” Stiles snorted. “I need to go buy a hat and some gloves, at some point. And a tree. Maybe. And lights? I never decorate and it’s suddenly bothering the shit out of me. I’d say I don’t know why, but I do. Anything I can do to keep myself from thinking about Scott is a good plan. I didn’t even realize how bad it had gotten until you mentioned something the other day and I felt a little jealous. Since then, I’ve been more aware of how I react to him and yeah, it’s entirely my fault that he got interested.” 

Allison smiled sympathetically. “To be completely fair, he’s a ridiculously attractive boy and not reacting to him is like stopping the earth’s rotation. It just doesn’t happen.”

“Well, it needs to stop.” Stiles muttered. “Because every time I think I’m hurting his feelings, I want to stab myself in the face.” 

“So do I.” Allison sighed, making a face. “Stab me in the face, I mean. Not you. Seeing him light up pretty much makes my day, and thinking I’ve hurt him makes me feel like… like shit on top of shit.”

“All right.” Stiles sat down on the couch and looked up at his best friend, shaking his head. “What do we really do about this? I tried to give the gifts back, he wouldn’t take them. I’m going to probably live like a hermit during the entire winter break, just to avoid any possibility of running into him. But we still have eleven days of dealing with him.” 

Allison bit her lower lip and sat down across from him, propping her chin up on her hand. “I think it depends on what we’re willing to see happen. Getting him to be interested in someone else sounds great on paper, but it actually makes me want to destroy anything and anyone that touches him. I’d like to avoid anything that results in potential population decimation if we could.”

“Why? That just means fewer students to teach.” Stiles teased. “But yeah, I don’t know. I wouldn’t mind if he was happy and not making sad faces at me for an hour straight.” 

Allison whimpered. “I don’t know how a person is supposed to survive that face. You could be the Pope, and facing _that face_ would make you feel like… I don’t know. Someone in the center of the first circle of Hell in Dante’s Inferno.”

“Maybe we should just tell him the truth, that we’re kind of waiting for him to be legal.” Stiles snorted. “Maybe then he’ll stop being sad. And it’s getting harder to find other things to talk about, the way we keep dwelling on this. I thought my tongue was going to actually tie itself in a knot last night, while Lydia was here. I haven’t said one word to her about Scott. Have you?” 

“No.” Allison said, her eyes widening as she shook her head. “God no. I don’t know how she’d react to that. I don’t know what she’d do.” She sighed. “The only person I have to talk about this with is you, and thank god for that since we’re both going through the same damn thing.” She chewed on the nail of her thumb, thinking. “Maybe that would work, actually. I hate seeing him sad, but… it might help knowing that we’re just waiting?”

“Yeah.” Stiles murmured. “So, now what? I can’t keep drinking every time I get frustrated by my life, I’ll never be sober.” 

Allison grinned. “Well, maybe I’ve got something that’ll help. I’ve got your Christmas present for you.” She reached into her bag and tugged out a thin package and passed it across the space between them. “It’s nothing like what you gave me, I don’t think I could actually top that, but… I tried.”

Stiles tore the wrapping paper away from the thin book, grinning as he looked up at Allison. “Origami?” He set the book aside and hugged her. “Thank you. I’m going to end up making a ton of snowflakes and stuff.” He picked the book up again and sat back, eagerly opening the front cover to look at the index. 

Allison giggled, shifting next to him and staring at the tv before glancing over at the book. “What are you going to try first? Are there snowflakes in there? I’m ashamed to admit that I didn’t actually check, I just got super excited when I saw the book and almost ran out the door without paying for it.”

Stiles laughed. “It’s not like they would have been out of much money. Where did you find this?” 

Allison looked triumphant. “I found a nickel-and-dime store. And they don’t sell stuff that used to be in nickel-and-dime stores, they sell stuff like _this_ ,” she told him, tapping at the book. She paused, looking a little guilty. “Also, there’s just something pathetic about stealing, however accidentally, from a store like that, and I’m embarrassed that I almost did it.”

“I think it’s just this season. This year.” Stiles muttered. “Cora’s going through shit, we’re lusting after a teenager ourselves, I’m kind of ignoring Derek even though it’s obvious that he’s interested, I don’t even know what the hell is going on with Lydia... I just want things to go back to normal.” 

Allison hummed and sighed. “If wishes were horses, right?” She murmured. “I don’t know that we _can_ go back to normal, hon. I don’t think it’s possible. We’ve already pretty much skewed right off the path we were on.”

“Wow, fatalist.” Stiles smiled gently. “Yeah, we’re screwed. But I don’t want to just give up.” 

Allison’s smile tightened a little bit before relaxing, and she leaned over, gently bumping her shoulder against his. “Well, no. I agree that we’re fucked, but I never said I was going down without a fight.”

“So, tomorrow, we’ll tell him. Unless we tell him tonight, online? I don’t know.” Stiles frowned. “I feel like this is still wrong, somehow.” 

Allison clasped her hands together, furrowing her brows. “How do we know?” She asked softly, not expecting an answer. “How do we know how to make it right? It’s - I feel like whatever we do from here on out, we’re going to be making trouble for ourselves.”

“I mean, there really is the option of transferring ourselves to a different school.” Stiles murmured. “We can’t refuse to have him in our classes from now on, that’s only going to raise questions.” 

Allison sighed. “Yeah,” she muttered. “And I don’t want to do that. I’d miss seeing his face. I don’t - I don’t know what’s worse, actually, not seeing him at all, or knowing he’s in the same building as us and still not seeing him. Probably the second one.”

“There was this moment, after lunch, when I thought it would be kind of awesome if it turned out that he wasn’t really a teenager. Like some kind of Never Been Kissed thing. I’ve sunk to a new low, thinking like that.” Stiles snorted. 

Allison smiled, shaking her head. “I don’t think it’s a low. You’re… It’s almost like you’re trying to stay hopeful, thinking like that.” She shrugged. “I kind of keep hoping that I’ve somehow misread his age and he’s actually over twenty-five, and he’s just been held back. A lot.”

“That sounds terrifying.” Stiles laughed. “Okay. What about the rest of it? If he picks one of us, what does the other one do?” 

Allison smiled weakly at him. “I think we both know who he’d pick if he could.” She told Stiles quietly. “It’s okay. I’m okay with it.”

“Hey, don’t just assume anything.” Stiles protested. “He was more vocal about how he felt about you before he ever said anything to me.” 

Allison huffed out a laugh. “We’re each hearing or seeing something out of him that the other doesn’t. Maybe having a sit-down, just the three of us, would be a good idea.” She shrugged a shoulder. “Maybe clearing the air would be the smart thing to do. And if it turns out that… he wants one of us more than he wants the other, then we’ll deal with it. Right?” 

“What else can we really do about it?” Stiles pointed out. “Maybe we should just call him and tell him to come over here. Is that weird? Too much? I don’t know that I want to discuss this at school, where anyone else can overhear.” 

Hesitating a little before she answered, Allison said, “It’s… probably better to discuss things privately. But I also think that… this might end in a way that we both want and don’t want.”

“What the hell does that even mean?” Stiles rubbed his eyes. “Ironic that I have to say this, but - in English, please?”

“Heh.” Allison couldn’t help grinning. “It means that… if we invite him here, to your house… we might not be able to control ourselves the way we should.”

Stiles grimaced. “Shit, you’re right.” He frowned. “Okay. I think I have to do something I don’t want to do.” 

“Oh?” Allison tilted her head at him. “Such as?”

“I think I should call my dad.” Stiles frowned. “If I call and tell him about this, about how we’re feeling... he doesn’t have to be in the room, to make Scott uncomfortable. But if he just... I don’t know, hangs out in the kitchen, where we won’t go? He can kind of monitor us and keep us from making bad choices. Trust me, I’m not going to do anything with my dad being here.” 

“I wouldn’t, that’s for sure.” Allison agreed, licking her lips nervously. “But… do you really want to talk to Scott where your dad can overhear us and our plans? Tentative plans? The… plans we’re pretending are actual plans?”

“I mean, we’re going to say ‘we both have an interest in you, but we really think it’s best for us to wait until you’re at least eighteen and no longer our student.’ That’s perfectly legal and can’t hurt anyone. And if someone tries to say something later on? My dad will be right here and witness to the discussion. Maybe we should get someone else, though. Personal bias and everything.” Stiles made a face like he had bitten into a lemon. “Fuck. Call Parrish.” 

Allison nodded, looking apologetic. She stood up and grabbed her phone out of her pocket before stepping away for a moment to call the deputy. She came back in several minutes later. “He’s on his way.” She murmured. 

“Great.” Stiles muttered dryly. “I’ll call Scott. After I order pizza.” He placed the order through his phone app, startled by how easy it was to order food and soda that he knew Scott liked. If the teen had just been a few years older, everything would be so much easier. 

Allison nodded and took her seat again, returning her gaze to the tv. She wasn’t really happy at the idea of having Parrish in the room or in the house - or the general vicinity - but she knew it would likely be better than Stiles’ father finding out that two people in a position of power over a teenager were interested in the boy, regardless of whether or not they were planning to wait. And - Well, she just really didn’t want the Sheriff to judge them badly, and she didn’t think she could take seeing disappointment on his face. The only other person she could have thought of to invite was Lydia - and she still wasn’t sure that she wanted the other woman to know. 

Stiles watched Allison as his friend’s expression changed a few times, and he guessed what was on her mind. “We’re only talking to Jordan instead of my dad because of bias and conflict of interest. I don’t want to explain to the guy that once rejected me that I have an interest in someone underage. I’d actually rather discuss it with my dad. But I can’t.” 

Allison glanced over at him. “I’d offer up my dad to bounce info off of, but…” she shrugged. “I’m not really of the opinion that he needs to be made aware. I know someone has to be here, but I guess Parrish is as neutral a party as they come, so I’ll deal. And if you end up telling your dad in the future anyway, well… I’ll be there with you.”

“I appreciate that.” Stiles murmured. “I don’t really want to see Jordan at all. It’s not even that I like him anymore. I don’t. But having to be around him kind of freaks me out.” 

“I understand.” Allison murmured. “Or, well, I don’t, not exactly, but I get it. Kind of.” Her face scrunched up a little. “If he makes things too uncomfortable, I’ll ask him to leave.”

“The thing is, you can’t. Because we’re stuck with him here until Scott leaves.” Stiles smiled tensely. “Otherwise, we’re going to have to answer a lot of questions. In prison.” 

Allison winced. “Right. Then, uh… we’ll make it quick. Or as quick as we can.” She sighed. 

Stiles could see a problem looming in the future, if or when Scott was older and still wanted them. He glanced at Allison, then made a decision. Conflict between friends had never been something he could handle, so he had his mind made up to avoid it at all costs. Even if that cost was Scott, whose number he was dialing. He would keep it to himself until he had to decide for all three of them, to make sure that nobody could argue with him about it. 

“Hello?” Scott answered the phone, sounding confused. “Uh… Mister S?”

Stiles blinked. He knew how he had Scott’s phone number, since every student was required to leave contact information. But Scott shouldn’t have known his. “Yes. How did you know that? Uh, nevermind. Tell me later. I mean... I’d like you to come to my house. If you’re not busy.”

Scott was silent for a bit, and when he spoke again, he sounded embarrassed. “Um. O-okay. I… I can be there soon-ish? I’m, uh… I just need to… know your address?”

Stiles resisted the urge to ask Scott if he already had it and was just trying not to get into trouble. He told Scott his address anyway, licking his lips nervously. “I’ve ordered a pizza, too. So if you want to have dinner with me and Allison, you’re welcome to stay long enough for that.” 

“Okay.” Scott murmured, trying to keep from sounding too excited. “I’d like that. I’ll - I’ll see you guys soon.”

Stiles felt a little guilty as he said goodbye and hung up, glancing up at Allison. “I think Scott’s going to get here before the pizza and Parrish, both. It’ll be fine, we’ll just explain. He’s smart, he’ll understand.” 

Allison nodded, chewing on her bottom lip. “It’ll be fine.” She repeated. “Totally fine.”

Scott proved Stiles right nearly ten minutes later, knocking hurriedly at the door and looking nervous as hell as he did.

Stiles opened the door, giving Allison a pointed look over his shoulder before he turned back toward Scott, smiling. “Hey.” 

Scott beamed up at him, his eyes large and wide. “Hi.” He blurted, moving to take a step closer and faltering when he realized exactly how close it would put him in relation to Stiles. He peered over the older man’s shoulder, flushing and smiling at Allison. “Hi. I - I brought stuff?” He said, holding up a bottle of soda.

Stiles grinned. “I actually ordered some of that, too. But more won’t hurt.” He held his hand out for the bottle. “This is going to be an awkward conversation, and one we can’t have for at least a few more minutes. But in the meantime, you can find something on tv if you want?” 

Scott nodded nervously. “Okay.” He said softly, and handed the bottle over to Stiles, shuffling into the house and looking around awkwardly before he took a seat on the couch and stared at the television.

Allison moved forward, taking a step closer to Stiles and looking at Scott with a small smile. “There’s a Harry Potter marathon on, like usual, on Freeform, if you’re interested. Otherwise, I think there’s some pretty cool things on Ancient Egypt on, on the History channel.”

Scott smiled up at her. “Thank you.” He breathed, and reached for the remote, flicking the channel.

Stiles’ eyebrows raised as he looked at Allison. “Really? Is it the one where they’re talking about aliens building the Pyramids?” He snorted, but carried the soda into the kitchen to pour it into glasses for the three of them. After a moment, he remembered that Parrish would be there soon, so he filled a fourth glass. 

Allison flapped a hand at him, smiling. “Scott thinks they’re hilarious.” She paused and furrowed her brows in consternation. “I also think a part of him kind of believes them.”

“This is already going badly and Parrish is taking way too long to get here. I’m going to tell my dad that I’m glad it wasn’t a fucking emergency.” Stiles muttered. “Asshole.” 

Allison looked up at the knock on the door, and sighed. “And, that’ll be him. Solely because he somehow heard you saying that.” She rubbed her eyes. “I’ll get the door and let him in.” She moved away from Stiles and then came back several moments later with Parrish following behind her. “Have a drink.” She told him, and pushed the cup Stiles had filled at the deputy.

“Uh, thanks.” Parrish murmured, looking confused but accepting the cup. “So… what’s going on?”

Stiles made a face, but sighed and spoke. “Allison and I are both interested in one of our students. We’re not going to do anything illegal. But that’s why we called you, actually. I want someone to be a witness to the conversation we’re having about how we want to wait until he’s eighteen or older, and also no longer a student of ours, before either of us pursue a relationship with him. If he even wants that, when he’s old enough. I was going to ask my dad to do this, but there’s a conflict of interest there. You don’t have to say or do a damned thing, just stay here and listen. Or sit in the room and make things even more fucking awkward than they already are and listen.” 

Parrish blinked at Stiles, and furrowed his brows together. “Uh. Okay.” He said slowly. “I’ll… just stay here, then?”

Allison grimaced and glanced at Scott, taking a seat next to him and saving the spot on Scott’s other side for Stiles. “Hi, again, Scott.” She said softly, a small, affectionate smile creeping onto her lips.

Scott looked over at her, and then smiled before smiling up at Stiles again. “You’ve got a lot of channels.” He blurted, and then blushed. “I mean… that’s not what I meant to say.”

Stiles laughed softly. “Yeah, I get bored pretty easily and I hate feeling like I’ve missed out on anything. Which is sort of... a great segue into what I need to tell you.” He looked at Allison, then back at Scott. “What _we_ need to tell you. I think I misled you when I tried to give the gifts back. I’m trying to fix that. See, we’re both interested. But the fact that you’re sixteen and our student means that there’s actually nothing we can - okay, nothing we should - do about it. If, when you’re in your twenties and single, you still want either of us, and also if that interested person is single, then... uh, I know that would be a lot of ifs, but I still sort of think that when you’re twenty-two or twenty-three, you might not even want to come back here. And if you do, and if... Allison, I’m using too many words, help me.” 

Allison smiled faintly. “We don’t want you to wait for us.” She told Scott. “We want you to… grow and explore and live. Go to college, meet people, get -” She swallowed. “Get girlfriends. Or boyfriends. Find out who you are and what you want, and… if what you want is still us, we’ll still be here when you come back.” She reached out and squeezed Scott’s hand. “But not until you’re eighteen, or over at least. There are some things that even we can’t bypass, and one of them is definitely the law.”

Scott glanced back and forth between them and licked his lips nervously. “So… you aren’t just saying it to get me to… back off.” He said softly. “You both… you actually want me, but it’s really just my age holding you back, nothing else?”

“Yeah.” Stiles nodded. “Well, that and the fact that we don’t want to go to prison.” He smiled softly. “But like Allison said, that’s because of your age, too.” 

Allison huffed out a small laugh. “We’re… well, Stiles and I don’t have anything going on.” She told Scott, shrugging a shoulder. “It’s not like it would hurt to, you know. Wait.”

Scott’s eyes widened. “Really?”

“Really.” Stiles repeated. “I haven’t been interested in anyone in a few years, until recently. You. I can’t promise that I’ll still be waiting in a few years, but it would have to be my literal soulmate, to change my mind.” 

Allison nodded. “And I’m definitely not looking for anyone right now. Again, maybe in a few years that’ll be different, but what we want, we want with you. After you’re legal.”

Scott grinned softly and glanced down at his lap before nodding. “Okay.” He said softly, shrugging his shoulders together simply. “Can I still stay over for dinner?”

Stiles nodded, sighing in relief. He excused himself and went into the kitchen. “Do you need to stay here to make sure nothing unseemly happens?” He asked Jordan, avoiding the deputy’s gaze. 

Jordan glanced at Stiles for a moment. “I don’t really think you need me here.” He smiled awkwardly. “I know you don’t want me here. And I don’t think you’d do anything that you’d know would get you in trouble.” He stood up. “I’ll get going.” He murmured.

Stiles nodded, his lips twitching. He grabbed two of the glasses of soda, carrying them out of the kitchen and over to Allison and Scott. 

Parrish walked past them and lifted a hand to say goodbye to them, giving Allison and Scott a small smile and heading out the door.

Allison paid no mind, looking up at Stiles and smiling as she accepted her glass. “Thanks.” She murmured, and shifted back in her seat.

Stiles mouthed ‘thank you’ at Allison, then went back into the kitchen for his own drink before he returned. He sat down on Scott’s other side, where he had been before. Now that the conversation he had been dreading was over, he could relax a little more. “We were both talking about how you could actually be over eighteen and lying to us. Allison said something about you being an undercover cop, I think you’re more likely to be working for some newspaper, like Drew Barrymore. But either way, two years is a long time for that kind of ruse.” 

Scott giggled quietly, ducking his head. “No, I’m definitely not any of that. I don’t think I’d be able to wait two years for anything, anyway. I’d have caved after a minute.”

“Then you understand what it’s like for us, right now.” Stiles snorted. 

“It’s what we’ll probably be going through for quite awhile.” Allison smiled crookedly. “When it comes to you, we can’t seem to hold any secrets back.”

Scott blushed. “That’s - that’s good to know.” He paused. “That sounds wrong.”

“I think we know what you meant, though.” Stiles murmured. “I don’t think you’d be saying any of this or doing any of this if your goal was to hurt us, later on.” He glanced down at his hands and the cup he was holding, since his gaze had kept going to Scott’s mouth and he knew that if he encouraged himself to keep thinking that way, things would only get worse for both of them. He lifted the cup to his mouth shakily. It had been so easy, not even an hour earlier, to tell himself that he could walk away and let Scott and Allison be together when the time came. Seeing Scott now and admitting his feelings made it a lot harder to picture himself anywhere but at the teen’s side. But he still didn’t want to see Allison miserable. He grimaced, then glanced up at both of them when he realized their talk wasn’t even close to being over with. “I didn’t even admit to myself that I cared about you until about two or three days ago.” He muttered, turning toward Scott. “And it was actually because Allison said something first. I kept trying to remind her, and remind myself, that getting involved with you now was a bad idea. What’s going on with Cora made it that much more imperative that we don’t do something impulsive. Not that her situation should be any more or less relevant to ours. I think it’s going to be really difficult for me, being here and knowing that you know, and knowing that there’s nothing we can do. Not without serious consequences. But the idea of leaving feels worse, because I wouldn’t just be leaving you, no matter how temporarily. I’d be leaving Erica and Allison, and my dad. And Cora. And as much as I will deny ever having said this, I think I would even miss Jackson if I left now. But maybe that’s for the best, anyway. Maybe the mature thing to do is to remove myself from a situation that I don’t want to get out of control.” 

“But don’t,” Scott blurted, his eyes going wide and stricken. “I don’t think you have to be mature. I won’t push anything, and - and I’ll do my best not to remind either of you -“

“It’s not that, sweetie.” Allison murmured, smiling gently at him. “It isn’t something that you’re capable of stopping us from thinking about.” She looked up at Stiles knowingly, her eyes soft. “It’s something that he and I have to be capable of doing ourselves without putting you at risk. We’re adults, the maturity comes as a packaged deal whether we want it to or not. And… we do have to think of how this would affect our ability to teach. I don’t think we need to go so far as to leave, but… I do think we need to put a cap on any familiarity between us. It’s going to be really difficult, but I think we can do it.”

Scott furrowed his brows a little in thought, and then looked up at Stiles, and then back at Allison. “I can do that.” He said. “But… you guys, you aren’t anything like Harris. Not even the least little bit, you really aren’t. Don’t compare this situation with us to what Cora is going through right now, because it’s not the same. I feel terrible for what she’s dealing with, but Harris was a smarmy creep that wouldn’t take no for an answer. You guys are basically telling me that you _are_ taking no for an answer, you’re even encouraging me to… try life before I really decide that I want you. Which I do. I don’t think that’s going to change, regardless of where I go and who I might meet.” He sighed. “Just - please don’t start feeling guilty and please don’t start comparing yourselves to Harris because - there isn’t a comparison. You’re both ten thousand times better than he is at everything that matters, and that includes being human.”

Stiles smiled at Scott. “Thank you. I want to stay that way, too. You know I’m not like him, sure. But if anything happened before you were legal, that is exactly what everyone would think. Allison and Lydia would be interrogated. And Finstock. All of the teachers. Parents would remove their kids from school en masse.”

Allison hummed and nodded. “It would be a catastrophe. And Stiles and I would both be out of a job quicker than a…” She frowned. “Than something really fast.” She wanted to touch Scott’s shoulder to reassure him, but she knew full well that she wouldn’t be able to quit, so she kept her hands to herself. “The parents, the whole town, they’d start thinking up crazy ideas and accusing all of the teachers of being out to defile their kids, and it’s a conspiracy theory, and who knows what else.”

Scott rubbed his chin, nodding. “Yeah, I can see how that would happen.” He murmured, and shook his head a second later. “I don’t want either of you to get in trouble. I promise I’ll keep things low key. I’d never forgive myself if I was a part of something that cost either of you your jobs.”

Allison let out a tiny noise, her eyes shooting up to catch Stiles’. When Scott spoke like that, it actually made it more difficult not to throw herself at him.

Stiles smiled knowingly at Allison. “No.” He said firmly. “In time, everything will work out. That’s as optimistic as I’m ever going to be.”

Alison cocked her head to the side, and then nodded with a sigh. “Yeah, I’d say that’s pretty optimistic for you. Okay.”

Stiles answered the door to get the pizza a moment later, setting the box on the coffee table and sitting back down. He looked over at Scott, smiling gently. “Go ahead and eat.”

“Awesome.” Scott blurted, beaming up at Stiles. He reached out and carefully flipped the lid of the pizza box up, and then reached for a slice. He put it on a plate and handed it to Stiles, and then did the same for Allison before he finally took a slice for himself.

Allison let out another tiny, strangled noise, staring at Scott almost desperately before she forced her gaze to her pizza slice.

Stiles snorted, sitting against the back of the couch and taking a bite of his pizza. This was as close to a date as he’d had in years, and he wanted to enjoy it. He felt like his decision to ensure that Scott and Allison ended up together was more justified, given the way his best friend kept acting like every gesture from the teen was a miracle. Stiles liked Scott, but he didn’t see the boy as something close to angelic.


	5. Friday, December 8th

On Friday morning, Stiles collected the rest of the essays from his first period class, gave out the last of the gifts to those he could, and finally sat down to take attendance. He had enjoyed the evening before, and all he had done was talk to Scott about winter break and a few tv shows.

Erica leaned forward in her seat, eyeing Stiles curiously. “You look pretty happy today, Mister S.” She commented. “You and Ally A finally get down?”

“That’s not ever going to happen.” Stiles said bluntly. “As I’ve said before, several times,” he gave Erica a pointed look, even as he smiled, “Allison and I see each other as siblings, and this is California. Not some other state where that sort of behavior is acceptable.” 

Erica threw her hands up. “You can’t blame me for not believing you! We never see you with anyone except her.”

Stiles blinked, then shook his head and stood up. “This goes beyond anything that any of you need to know about any of your teachers, but the fact is that I just haven’t really had an interest in dating in a while now. The last time I did ask someone out, I got rejected and I decided that if I was meant to be with someone, either they or the universe would just have to take care of that shit for me, because I was quitting. My job is to teach and to keep my dad from eating too many cheeseburgers. Everything else is secondary.” 

Cora’s eyes were soft as she stared up at him. “That… just seems very lonely.” She said quietly, and then stopped talking.

Scott leaned forward. “Not… exactly.” He corrected her. “Careful. It’s careful. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“This isn’t really the time or place to discuss my life outside of this building, anyway. I don’t think there even is a time or place for it.” Stiles remarked. “You asked, I answered, let’s move on. For the next couple of weeks, we’re only going to watch movies. At least during the morning classes. I don’t know what the other teachers are doing for electives, but it’s going to be more of the same old thing in mine.” 

Erica nodded, looking a little cowed. “Are they going to be themed? Like, we’re still watching Christmas movies, right? It’s a Wonderful Life and stuff?”

“Yeah.” Stiles murmured. “I think I managed to convince them that Die Hard counts. I mean, Home Alone has at least as much violence in it.” 

Scott nodded in agreement. “But Die Hard is better. Way better.” He grinned.

“Oh, don’t even.” Erica blurted. “Home Alone is amazing. It’s a classic!”

Cora stared at them both, blinking. “Um. Can we get back to letting Mister S. talk?”

Stiles laughed softly. “I don’t even have anything else for you today.” He admitted. “I’ve been busy with going over movies that you guys can watch, these next two weeks.” He sat back down on his desk. “What do you guys want to talk about? _Not_ who I’m dating or could be dating, Erica.” 

Erica grinned innocently at him. “We could talk about who _I’m_ dating.” She suggested.

“That’s not happening.” Jackson snorted. “We don’t care who you’re ‘dating.’”

Erica scowled. “Fine. We can talk about… What we’re doing _after_ the holidays, next semester.”

Stiles’ smile widened. “Okay, let’s do that.” He nodded. “The new semester starts when you come back. Do all of you have your schedules straightened out, to make sure you’re taking the classes you want or need? I know that the counselors at every school have a tendency to do their best to get kids - sorry, young adults - into the classes they want, but it doesn’t always happen. You guys are more fortunate in some ways and less fortunate in others. This school is so small in student population that the school board saw fit to only include a few electives, and mostly stuck you with required courses. That means you can easily get into whatever class you want, so long as that class is what’s offered as an elective.” He bit his lip, thinking. “But every teacher has at least one free period a day, if they want it. I don’t have to have one. So I guess what this brings me to is, is there a subject you can study, that I specifically can teach you, that you’d want to take?” 

Cora was silent as she listened to other people let out semi-ridiculous and semi-serious suggestions, ranging from ‘the hula’ to ‘karate’. She chewed on her lower lip, and then asked, “What are you capable of teaching us, that we can study?”

“Hold on.” Stiles murmured. He started calling out names, pointing to the Grinch corner of the classroom. Everyone who had given him a ridiculous answer had to move from their desks. He waited until they were settled before he answers Cora’s question. “Short stories. Creative writing. How to type. Business writing. That sort of thing. I can maybe even figure out a way to teach a class about a particular author, if there’s enough interest in it.” 

Cora squinted at him. “And… what about physical things? I mean, like… crafts, or vocations or something? Knitting, woodworking.”

Stiles looked confused. “I’m an English teacher.” He looked around the room, twisting sideways to see the teens in the front corner. “Okay.” He said finally. “But we’re doing it the way I want to do it. Maybe a cooking class? Or... yeah, I can knit and crochet.” He admitted. “I might be able to teach both.” 

Cora smiled at him tentatively. “I mean, you could bring the lessons back around to English. No idea how, but… that’s why you’re the teacher and I’m not.”

Stiles smiled. “Woodworking, though? Like, whittling? Like you’re an old man?” 

Cora laughed and shook her head. “Woodworking. Putting things together again, or putting an idea of something new together.”

“What kind of examples can you give me? Are we building birdhouses?” Stiles looked interested. “Spice racks? Jewelry boxes?” 

Cora nodded. “All of those. Maybe other things, if I think I’ve become… capable enough. I’m hoping to be good enough at it so I can make presents or something for my brother and sister.”

Stiles looked around the room again, his mind wandering. “I think I can make this work as a sort of practical application of something you’ve read in the class.” He got up, walking around the desk and going to the board behind him. He wrote ‘Practical Applications in Literature’ and underlined it, then started writing skills below the line. ‘Woodworking’, ‘Crocheting/Knitting’ and ‘Cooking’ were the first things he added, and he included ‘Auto Repair’ underneath that. He stepped back, still lost in thought. “If we covered each of these for a month...” 

“The final month can be devoted to in-class presentations.” Lydia spoke up from the doorway, waving a hand at the students to say hello. “You would need to explain that you would be rotating classrooms each month.” 

“Are you going to help me?” Stiles demanded, turning toward the redhead. 

“I’m not qualified to teach any of these things.” Lydia protested. “You’re better off asking Allison. She could probably create lectures on the historical use of everything. I’m actually tempted to _take_ this class, but there’s an age-restriction problem.” 

Erica grinned. “I’m actually kind of interested in this, now, too. I’m totally for this. I think it could be really interesting.”

“Then I’ll get everything set up and teach this, next semester.” Stiles smiled. “And I’ll see if Ms. Martin is allowed to attend.” He snorted. 

Jackson grinned slowly. “Sweet.” His eyes followed Lydia intently, and he sat back, looking pleased with the turn of events. 

Lydia stared back at Jackson, unimpressed. “The previous science teacher may have been interested in pursuing teenagers, but I am not.” She glanced at Stiles again, then left the room. 

Stiles glanced down, rubbing his face to try to hide his smile. “Uh, let’s go back to what we’re talking about, here. Are all of you interested in this potential class?” 

Scott looked a little pale, his eyes still staring toward the door after Lydia before he jerked his head back to look at Stiles. “Uh, yeah, I’m into it.” He said, nodding. 

Cora grinned widely as the majority of the other students murmured their agreement, looking pleased as she ducked her head toward her desk. 

Stiles dismissed everyone a couple of minutes before the bell rang, using his phone to look up books and write down titles he wanted to use in the following semester’s class. He wasn’t even sure he would be allowed to teach it. He had a feeling that if he gave his students bad news and told them that his idea had been rejected, they would storm the office and get the principal to change his mind. 

Scott lagged behind, looking around the room nervously as he approached Stiles. “Does… um, she doesn’t - Miss Martin doesn’t know, does she? About…” he trailed off, gesturing between them. 

Stiles shook his head. “I don’t think so.” He shrugged one shoulder. “If she thought there was a problem, she would have said something to either me or Allison, or to the administration here. Or the police. She’s not the kind of person, from what I know of her, who would sit back and let someone be taken advantage of.” 

Scott breathed out, looking relieved. “Okay. She - she said that, and I almost felt my heart stop. I don’t - I don’t want you to get in trouble, I don’t want Allison - I mean, Miss Argent - to get in trouble because of me.”

“I don’t want that, either.” Stiles admitted. “But that’s why we’re waiting. And I still think - and you’re just going to tell me that I’m wrong, but whatever - that you need to meet other people and live a little, outside of this town, before you really make up your mind.” 

Scott didn’t look very happy with the suggestion, but he sighed and nodded. “Yeah, I know. And I guess… I mean, I guess I will. Whatever else happens, I’m still -“ he lowered his voice. “I’m still coming back to you and Allison. I’ll live life or whatever, but… you two are my endgame.”

“Both of us, huh?” Stiles murmured. “I don’t know if we’re comfortable with that. I think that’s the sort of thing we’ll all have to deal with later. Probably.” 

“Oh. Okay.” Scott replied, nodding, and then let out a sigh. “Okay. I’m going to - I’ve gotta get to my next class.” His fingers twitched, wanting to reach out to touch Stiles, but he didn’t want to get caught out. “I’ll - see you soon?”

Stiles nodded back. “Yeah, uh... if not sometime today, then tomorrow.” He laughed. “I mean Monday. It’s Friday. Long week.” 

Scott smiled back at him. “Right. Then… I’ll see you Monday.” He tried his best not to look too hopeful, because a part of him had hoped that maybe he _would_ see Stiles that weekend, but he didn’t want to push. He hauled his bag over his shoulder and headed for the door, smiling a little wider. “See you later, Mister S.”

“Bye, Scott.” Stiles ducked his head again as he smiled, relieved as he turned toward the board again. He had a way now to keep himself busy all weekend, and maybe not think about how he actually was lonely.


	6. Saturday, December 9th

Stiles made himself a cup of coffee early in the morning, on Saturday. He had been up all night, going through his personal library and using Google to create a lesson plan for the new semester. The request for the elective had been approved almost instantly, and Stiles couldn’t help wondering why or how the principal had so much faith in him. He took it as a sign that he was actually a functioning adult and didn’t want to think about how he was less than a month from the rest of the world thinking so, just based on his age. 

‘Are you up?’ Allison texted him. ‘I can’t sleep and I’m bored and I need entertainment please.’

‘I’ve been up all night. Just come over.’ Stiles rubbed his eyes, then looked down at the phone and wondered again why they even bothered with separate houses. 

‘I’ll be right there. With breakfast. Any requests?’

‘Surprise me.’ Stiles smiled to himself and went down the hall to his bedroom, grabbing a change of clothes and taking a quick shower while he waited for Allison. He gathered all of the wadded-up papers and threw them into the trash can. 

Allison arrived not long after, bags of food in her hands from the diner they both preferred. “Hi!” She called. “Hope you enjoy the southwestern skillet!”

“Did they remember the tabasco sauce on it?” Stiles asked automatically. “I have my own, if they forgot. Anyway. I was putting together a lesson plan. I haven’t been this excited about teaching in awhile. And I even managed to get permission for Lydia to take the class. Not as a graded student, obviously. But it was one of her stipulations, I guess, to keep working at the school. The other ones were that she only work mornings, and that she gets to teach math.” 

“Sounds about right,” Allison laughed and began unpacking the food. “It sounds pretty awesome. Kinda makes me want to join the class, too, but I’d kind of rather teach.” She smiled and pushed the dish toward Stiles. “They added the tabasco but you’re going to want yours anyway, they didn’t add nearly as much as you usually like.”

Stiles glanced at Allison, then decided he could always blame things on his lack of sleep. “Why don’t you just move in here?” He opened a box to see if it was his breakfast, then looked up at her. “We’re both paying property tax for no fucking reason. How is that practical? You’re over here all the time anyway, I have a spare bedroom that I have no fucking use for.” 

Allison blinked, looking a little surprised before smiling at Stiles. “I just figured you’d want to keep your own space. I’d love to move in. You’re right, we might as well, I half live here anyway.”

“I mean, it’s gonna get weird if we ever bring someone over, but whatever.” Stiles snorted. “That already kinda happened now. Twice. So yeah, whatever. Move your stuff in this weekend and put your house up for sale.” He laughed. 

Allison grinned at him. “Sir, yes, sir.” She saluted. “But for now, food.” She sat down on the couch and opened her own container to start eating. “I know you think this might get awkward - hell, it will, we both know it - but I think I think this is a good move. I love being over here anyway, it feels… better than my place.” 

“And this is why Erica thinks we’re together.” Stiles went into the kitchen for his tabasco sauce, adding it to his food before he took a bite. “Because neither of us is seeing anyone and we’re always together. I couldn’t explain about Scott, obviously. And I think he somehow got it in his head that we’re going to share him. I told him that wasn’t likely.” 

Allison blinked at him rapidly, her eyes wide. “He thinks we’re going to share him?” She blurted. “Shit. He thinks - oh, lord. He doesn’t want to choose, does he?”

“I don’t think he does, no.” Stiles murmured. “Look, I wasn’t going to say it, but if the time comes that he comes back here and can’t decide, and if you’re still single and interested, I don’t think my marital status or lack thereof matters. He’s yours.” 

Allison shook her head. “Stiles, no,” she murmured. “Don’t do that. Don’t be self-sacrificing or whatever, not when we don’t even know get what’s actually going to happen, okay? You care about him, I can see it. I don’t want you throwing your chance at happiness away just because there might be a small chance in the future that Scott might want me. If he can’t decide, then…” she frowned. “We’ll figure it out then. But only then, not now, not when we still don’t know what could happen.”

“Okay.” Stiles didn’t feel like arguing the point with her. “So I think you should see about doing a class like mine.” He smiled. “I have a lot of excited students, which is a little surprising. But I think I can handle a class load of maybe forty. I think anything more than that might be too much.” 

“Any more than that could become chaos.” Allison nodded, laughing before she tilted her head thoughtfully and hummed. “I guess I could do self-defense, maybe? Show the students how it originated in different places, different hand-to-hand styles. That sort of thing.”

“A History of Self-Defense.” Stiles grinned. “This is going to be a great semester.” 

“Damn straight.” Allison grinned, looking pleased. “This is like I get to be a Harry Potter teacher without a dark lord hanging over my head. And potential death.”

Stiles nodded, going back to eating his breakfast. He yawned as he got up to throw the empty box away, turning toward his best friend. “Look, I’m freaking out about turning thirty, and I'm going to deny that I even said that because I’m exhausted and I don’t actually want to talk about it. I’m just saying it because it’s going to become more obvious as the next few weeks pass, and I need you to stop me from doing something insanely stupid. I think by now, you know that I’m prone to convincing myself that everything is a good idea.” 

“I do.” Allison replied uncertainly. “I’ll try to stop you from doing stupid things, but what do I do if I fail? Do I call someone for back-up? Do I call your dad, or Lydia?”

“I think that depends on the severity.” Stiles laughed. “If it’s going to cause my dad to arrest me, don’t call him.” 

“Oh, god, yeah.” She nodded. “Right.” Allison rubbed her eyes with a laugh, and then looked down at her breakfast, stabbing at the hashbrowns. “I need more ketchup. This needs to look like it’s freaking bleeding.”

Stiles went back into the kitchen to put the tabasco sauce away. He came back with the ketchup and set it down in front of Allison, then sat by her. “Why couldn’t you sleep?” 

Allison sighed as she thanked him, opening the ketchup and pouring it on top of the hashbrowns as she tried to gather her thoughts. “I’m not completely sure. I was tossing and turning a lot, and it took me longer to try to get to sleep than it normally does, but I could only manage fifteen minutes at a time, _maybe_ , before I’d be jolting myself awake again. It feels like something is bothering me, like something is going to happen, but I can’t for the life of me think of what it could be.” She grabbed her fork, scooping up the hashbrowns, and took a vicious bite.

“Anxiety about Scott?” Stiles guessed. “I think you’re infatuated with him in a way that I’m just not. I would like to feel that way about someone. Anyone. But as much as I want him, you want him more.”

Allison shook her head. “I don’t think it’s about Scott, though. This didn’t feel… good.” She sighed. “It felt like dread.”

“Like ‘stay home for two weeks’ dread?” Stiles looked concerned. “If we need to cancel school for any reason, I think we should.” He yawned again. “I’m going to make everybody read _Pinocchio_ before they do any woodworking.” His eyes drifted shut and he squirmed, trying his hardest to stay awake. 

Allison smiled softly at him and moved to put away her uneaten food, settling it in the refrigerator before she moved back to Stiles’ side. “It’s okay if you want to fall asleep. I’m not there yet, but you can use me for a pillow, if you want. Pinocchio sounds fantastic. We should watch the Disney movie soon.”

“Okay.” Stiles smiled. He leaned against Allison. “I already put it in the dvd player. I just forgot to watch it because I was trying to find other books.” 

Allison grinned and curled against him, resting her head on top of his. She reached for the remote and turned the movie on. “I like it when we’re on the same wavelength.” She told him, and settled in as Cinderella’s castle and Tinkerbell appeared on the tv screen.


	7. Monday, December 11th

On Monday morning, Stiles set a stack of papers on his desk and smiled to himself. He had written up a synopsis for each of the four books he expected his students to read for the elective he was teaching. He grabbed a second set of papers and started putting one on each desk, detailing the required reading for his sophomore English class. The countdown to his thirtieth birthday was now twenty-two days, and he planned to stay busy for every single one of them. If he was preoccupied, he wouldn’t go buy a sports car or get a tattoo, or date someone he didn’t even care about. 

Scott appeared in the doorway with Cora, peering in at Stiles curiously before stepping inside. “Hey, Mister S. Are we good to come in?”

“Yeah.” Stiles murmured. “You’re early. Is everything all right?” He looked up at them, concerned. 

“We were just wondering if we could sit in here and study a little?” Cora asked softly. “Everything is fine. On my end, anyway.” She glanced at Scott.

Scott smiled. “Things are okay for me, too. We just wanted silence, and we’re not really going to get that with the cluster that usually happens outside before school.”

“Then yeah, come on in.” Stiles nodded. He shut the door behind them and handed one of the papers about his elective to Cora. “I spent all weekend planning what we’re reading for this.” He gestured to the paper. “Pinocchio, Christine, Anne of Green Gables and Little House in the Big Woods. Not necessarily in that order. If you get an early start on the reading, that’ll give you more time for the practical application part of the class.” He looked at Scott. “Are you taking this, too?” 

Scott nodded, looking at Cora’s sheet curiously. “Yeah, I figured it could be fun.” He said. “Why Christine, though?”

Stiles looked a little embarrassed. “It was the only thing I could think of that actually got into car repair at all.” 

Scott grinned at him. “Okay. It’s cool.” He couldn’t quite hide the fondness in his voice.

Cora glanced at him again, raising an eyebrow, and then looked back at Stiles. “I don’t mind it. I don’t know anything about car repair. I think it could be kind of cool.”

“There’s really not much about these skills in the books I chose.” Stiles admitted. “But they still relate, even indirectly. So we’ll read the books and do projects based on them. I’d just teach you what you want to learn, but I have to use literature somehow, or it’s not an English elective.” He paused. “Actually, I’m pretty sure this counts as double or even triple the credits, since it’s home ec, wood shop, auto shop and literature, all at once.” 

“Sweet.” Scott whispered. “That’ll put me at fifteen credits by the end of the year. I think.” He frowned. “I’m not sure how many credits I actually have now.”

Cora grinned. “Check with your guidance counselor.”

“If you’re further behind than you should be with credits, I can help you plan your classes for next year.” Stiles offered. “Or you could voluntarily take summer school. It’s not just for getting caught up. Even if you’re where you should be, you can get ahead.” 

Scott grimaced, but sighed. “I thought I _was_ ahead. Guess summer school isn’t too terrible of an idea.” He looked at Stiles and smiled. “I definitely wouldn’t mind help.”

“You might be ahead.” Stiles blurted, frowning. He hadn’t meant to make Scott feel bad. “I don’t know what your credits look like, I only know what you’re getting in my class.” 

Scott looked confused. “Okay, but… I’d still like your help, whatever my credits are at. Is that okay?” All he could think of were ways to get to spend some time with Stiles. He was racking his brain, trying to think of ways to spend time with Allison, too.

“Yeah, I can do that.” Stiles murmured. “Not that either of you would, but try not to give Ms. Argent a rough time today, all right? She’s got herself convinced that something bad is about to happen. I’m not discounting it, I’ve had feelings like that before and they turned out to be right. But she’s especially nervous, because of it.” 

Scott looked concerned, but he nodded. “We’ll try to pass the message along, too, so that no one else bugs her.” He said.

Cora hummed in agreement. “We’ve got her back.”

Stiles smiled gratefully at them. “Thank you. I really think her worry stems from mine, but she won’t listen when I tell her that.” He snorted. “It would be nice if you could just freeze your age, right? Just stop wherever you want.” 

“Yeah, it would.” Scott murmured, staring at Stiles intently.

Stiles licked his lips, finally tearing his gaze away from Scott a moment later, when the warning bell rang. Away from Scott, he could easily convince himself that his feelings were lesser than Allison’s or even false, that this was just some need he had to feel relevant or young, or both. But in the classroom, five days a week, he was struggling more and more to stay professional. 

Cora glanced back and forth between them, furrowing her brows, and then silently took her seat, looking thoughtful.

Scott wandered toward his own seat, glancing over his shoulder at Stiles once, briefly, before sitting down. He didn’t catch Cora’s expression.

Stiles gave Scott a second paper about the upcoming elective. He glanced at Cora, doing a double-take at his student’s expression, before he bit his lip nervously and sat back down at his desk. 

Cora paid no mind to Stiles’ expression, instead opening her book and notebook and beginning to read quietly. She wasn’t quite sure what to think of what had happened between Stiles and Scott, and she wasn’t going to involve herself in it, either. It wasn’t her business, as far as she was concerned, since it didn’t seem like there was anything unwanted there - the way things had been when Harris had still been teaching and she’d been subjected to his whims.

Stiles knew that the logical thing would be to say nothing to Cora and pretend nothing had happened, but words bubbled up and out of his throat, like they tended to do. “We’re not involved.” He blurted, his voice quiet. “But we have talked about maybe one day getting involved. I don’t want you to think that this is... that I’m being... I would never do anything to hurt anyone. Not like that.” 

Cora looked up at him calmly, her eyes gentle. “I never, ever thought that you would.” She reassured him. “I kind of think I know the type of person you are. I know you wouldn’t do anything.”

“Okay.” Stiles murmured. “I’ve tried not to be obvious. If anyone reports me, or if anyone even thinks I’m doing anything that needs to be reported, I could end up losing this job. It means a lot, knowing that I’m able to get through to you guys in ways that my teachers couldn’t really get through to me. I don’t want you to lose that.” He squinted. “I think that sounds a little selfish? I know I’m not the only good teacher in the world, there are at least three others in this building alone. I haven’t had much sleep these past few days, so... uh, I don’t know. I think that I was going somewhere with this, but hell if I know where.” 

Cora grinned crookedly. “Well… just understand that if anyone does find out about this - and I’m not saying they will, but in case they do? It wouldn’t have been because of me. I keep secrets. Probably to my detriment, but I keep them all the same. I’ll keep yours.”

Stiles smiled gratefully back at Cora and nodded. “Thank you.” He turned his head to look at Scott, sighing before he picked up a book and started reading, determined to stay lost in the words and not in the teenager’s gaze. He felt like he was forgetting something, and he practically fell out of his chair when he realized what it was. “Shit, nobody else is in here because you two are supposed to be watching a movie in the auditorium with the rest of the school.” 

“Oh, crap.” Scott muttered, standing up. “No wonder it’s so quiet.” He gathered his things in one arm and waved at Stiles with his free hand. “I’ll see you later, deal?”

Cora tapped at her notebook, frowning. “You don’t need to thank me, you know. It’s really not necessary. Ever.”

Stiles looked up at Cora and saw her as his friend, not his student, in that moment. “What happened to you makes me want to find Harris and pull out all of his teeth and his fingernails with pliers. And no painkillers for him. And that’s just a start. After what he did to you, the last thing you should have to deal with is seeing another teacher showing any sort of interest in someone your age. I know that you’re aware of the difference, but other people won’t see it that way, and that’s not the point, anyway. By all rights, I probably _should_ be reported, even though I haven’t acted on anything and have no intention to. But I already told him that he needs to live life away from here, at least long enough for college, before he really decides on anyone or anything he wants.” He was careful to leave Allison out of the discussion. It was already too personal. “He denies it, but I have a strong belief that he’s going to end up with someone in college and he’ll be embarrassed that he ever had an interest in me.” 

Cora tilted her head, smiling sympathetically. “I don’t think anyone would be embarrassed to have had an interest in you.” She told him gently. “If anything, he’ll be embarrassed that he came on so strong to begin with. I’m glad that you’re at least encouraging him to go experience other things before he sets his sights on you again. It wouldn’t be fair to you if he pressed his interest and he wasn’t positive that he wanted you.”

Stiles nodded. “That’s why he’s better off seeing the world and other people.” He murmured, smiling faintly back at Cora. “I’m not holding my breath.”


	8. Wednesday, January 1, 2020

Stiles woke up on his thirty-second birthday, rubbing his eyes as he sat up. He stumbled down the hall to the kitchen, starting to brew a cup of coffee for himself before he poured food into the dog’s bowl, near the back door of the house. He saw a smear of what looked like blank ink on his forearm, and his eyes widened as he stared at it. He had a glass of champagne the night before, in celebration of the impending year. He definitely hadn’t gotten so inebriated that he would have gotten himself a tattoo, and definitely not one that read ‘Erica Reyes’ and the senior’s home address. He nearly tripped over Walter’s paws when the dog ran into the kitchen. “Damn it!” He caught himself on the edge of the counter, laughing softly at the old dog’s enthusiasm. Walter was an Italian Greyhound, and had been named by Stiles, after the character from Fringe. “Ally, are you home?” He called out, then snorted at himself and walked back down the hall, mindful of Walter following behind him as he knocked on his friend’s bedroom door. 

“I’m here,” Allison called out through a yawn, opening the door a moment later. She sleepily smiled down at Walter and ran her fingers over his head before she looked back up at Stiles. “What’s going on? Everything alright?”

“No.” Stiles blurted. He held his arm up, the writing facing her. “I know I didn’t get drunk. Did you do this after I fell asleep?” 

“What?” Allison squinted at his arm. “I fell asleep at the same time you did. And there’s no way I can write that nicely.” She frowned. “Erica Reyes. What the hell?”

“I don’t know.” Stiles shook his head, glancing down at his arm. His skin felt warm as the ink seemed to run together, then shift into different numbers and letters below the teenager’s name. “Um?” He said hoarsely. “I think maybe somebody put acid in my champagne.” 

Allison frowned. “What are you talking about?” She asked, and glanced down at his arm again, blinking in surprise. “Uh. We drank from the same bottle. I think whatever is affecting you is affecting me, too, because there’s no way that logically just happened.”

“So I have Erica’s name and address on my arm, but the address is different.” Stiles muttered. “And we’re not on drugs, and we’re not hungover. So, then, what the hell is this?” He motioned for her to follow him to the kitchen, then picked up the cup of coffee he had made for himself and set it down on the counter, instead. He started a second cup, intending to actually drink this one. “Maybe I got abducted by aliens. Or I’m a robot and my warranty ran out at midnight and that’s why I think today’s my birthday, and Erica is... fuck, I don’t know. My handler?” He snorted. “I don’t _feel_ like a robot.” 

Allison sat down at the table, looking amused. “Walter, what do you think?” She asked the greyhound. “Does your weird owner smell different than normal?” She raised her eyebrows at Stiles. “Pretty sure you don’t become a robot overnight. Unless someone kidnapped you and turned you into a cyborg.”

Stiles stared at Allison. “Shittiest birthday present, ever.” He retorted, laughing as he shook his head. He turned toward the device on the counter, jokingly asking, “Hey, Alexa. Is it normal to wake up with someone’s name on your arm?” 

The friendly mechanical voice replied a few seconds later. “Happy birthday, Stiles. An estimated twenty-five million people around the world have discovered names on their arms this morning, with no known cause. Many of the reported cases have one thing in common: the marked people share a birthday.” 

Stiles blinked, his mouth opening and closing as he looked at Allison. “That’s it, my life is an actual episode of Fringe. That’s what I get for naming the dog Walter.” 

Allison was turning her arms over and around, eyes wide as she tried to see if there were any markings there. “What the hell, what the actual hell,” She muttered. “So anyone who woke up today, all over the world, shares a birthday and has someone’s name written on them.” She paused in searching her skin - her birthday was in March, there was no point to it - and she looked up at Stiles in confusion. “So it’s some sort of… birthmark? Of someone else’s name?”

“I’m confused by ‘many cases have one thing in common.’ Shouldn’t that be all reported cases?” Stiles didn’t wait for an answer from Allison. Instead, he called his dad, frustrated. He added sugar to his coffee as he waited for the Sheriff to answer. 

John answered, sounding harried. “What’s going on, kiddo? Did something happen to you?”

“Yeah, I’m guessing you heard about the marks already? I’ve got one. I don’t know the cause, either. Do I need to come in and give a statement or something?” Stiles asked. “What does this mean, do you know?” 

John sounded exhausted as he answered. “No one knows yet, unfortunately. There are people screaming about it being a worldwide epidemic, I’ve got parents calling the station and screaming about someone unlawfully going around and tattooing their children… I’m gonna say better safe than sorry, so I probably ought to take a statement from you.” He sighed. “Never knew how many people shared your birthday before, not until a quarter of the damn town started calling me up in a panic.”

“How many?” Stiles blurted. “A fourth of our town is about a thousand people. Is it really that many?” 

“Sure as hell feels like it with all the calls I’ve been fielding all damn day.” John sighed. “It’s maybe only about seventy people at most.”

“I’ll come in and do whatever I have to do.” Stiles offered. “I’ll field calls or do paperwork, if you want. I’m not doing anything today, anyway.” 

“Tell him I’ll come in, too.” Allison told him. 

John huffed out a grateful laugh. “Tell Allison I heard her, and I appreciate it, from both of you.”

Stiles relayed the message to his roommate, then said goodbye to his dad and hung up. He looked down at Walter. “No parties while we’re gone.” He remarked, smiling as he walked into the living room to turn on PBS. For whatever reason, the dog liked watching Sesame Street. He went back into his room to change his clothes. 

Allison trailed after him, only to split off when she reached her room, changing quickly. She was at Stiles’ bedroom door minutes later, her hair pulled back into a high ponytail. “Ready?” She asked through the door. 

Stiles opened his door, nodding to Allison. He had a pair of jeans and an old Misfits t-shirt on, more relaxed than he usually was because he wasn’t allowed to wear his favorite t-shirts when he taught classes. 

Allison smiled at him and lightly tugged at the hem of the shirt. “Let’s get out of here.” She headed for the door, ruffling the top of Walter’s head as she passed. “Bye, cutie!”

Walter made a noise between a huff and a bark as he followed Stiles and Allison to the door. 

Stiles gave Allison a guilty smile as he closed it behind him. “I always feel bad when we have to do that. I thought I'd be over it by now, since we’ve had him almost a year.” 

Allison shook her head, smiling. “I don’t think it’s as easy as getting over it,” she murmured. “We could always ask the school if we can bring our woefully codependent, needy giant puppy to classes with us.” She grinned. “They might actually be okay with it. It’s not like Walter is misbehaved. He’s the definition of a good dog.”

“I think he might actually get pissed off if he misses Elmo’s World.” Stiles laughed, walking over to the Jeep. “You know how he grumbles when he’s mad? He’d just be doing that all day.” 

Allison giggled, hauling herself into the passenger side of the Jeep. “I think it’s adorable. We could always grab a Kindle or something to keep him entertained.” She leaned back comfortably, smiling. 

Stiles grinned, but his gaze fell on his wrist as he started the Jeep. Even though his forearms were covered by his sleeves, he couldn’t stop wondering why Erica’s name was on his arm. 

Allison glanced over at him, and her eyes softened. “Hey. We’ll figure it out, okay? It could be nothing. Some weird ass fluke of some kind. Something. Whatever it is, we’ll get answers.”

“I just don’t understand it.” Stiles frowned. “Am I supposed to protect her? Is this some kind of mission from God?” He snorted. 

“Maybe it is.” Allison shrugged. “Maybe it’s not. Maybe it just… means you’re connected to her.” She grinned teasingly. “Maybe she’s your _soulmate_.”

“Yeah?” Stiles was going to make a sarcastic remark, but he paused. “Shit. Maybe. She’s matured a lot these last couple of years, you know? And soulmate doesn’t necessarily have to mean, uh... a sexual thing.” 

Allison looked dubious - she hadn’t expected her teasing to be taken seriously. “Uh… well, maybe.” She said carefully. “I don’t know. I’m pretty sure I’m the last person to know what a soulmate entails.”

“I kind of figured that if anyone was a soulmate to anyone, it was you and me.” Stiles glanced at Allison. “Because you’re my best friend and we get along pretty well, most of the time.” He smiled faintly as he parked in the police station lot and shut the engine off. “That’s probably not even what this is.” He waved his arm. “It’s probably some kind of weird Big Brothers/Big Sisters thing. Or whatever.” 

Allison smiled fondly at him. “Maybe.” She said again. “But Erica Reyes or no Erica Reyes, you’re always going to be my soulmate.” She promised, and giggled. “Platonically, anyway.”

Stiles nodded, grinning back at her. “Come on, let’s go answer phones and tell people to fuck off if they get belligerent.” 

Allison hummed. “Just point me at ‘em.” She laughed. “I’ll teach them to scream at your dad.”

Stiles walked into the station with Allison, looking around for his dad. He kept his arm pressed against his side, knowing that some of the people in town were grabby and knew that it was his birthday, and he didn’t want anyone but his dad to see the name on his arm.

John looked up as some sixth sense told him that his son was in the room. He spotted the younger man, Allison glued protectively to his side, and he waved them both over. “Right here.”

Stiles walked over to his dad and hugged him, smiling tensely. “Okay, do you need a picture of this, or what?” 

John hugged him back before pulling away to answer. “Probably a good idea… oh.” He frowned, reaching for Stiles’ wrist and lightly turning his arm to see the name written across the skin. “Oh.” He said again, and then looked up at Stiles. “I’m guessing you’re not taking it upon yourself to start crafting your own tattoos of your students’ information, huh?” He shook his head. “Alright, let's get you settled in and take that picture before we settle you down at a phone.”

Stiles hesitated, then glanced at Allison. He hadn’t really ever bothered explaining about his attraction to Scott, but he felt like it was time. He wanted his dad to have full disclosure, to help him figure out what was going on around the world. Or their town, at least. “I need to talk to you. Allison can be in the room, unless you can’t have her here, for some reason.” 

John glanced up, looking back and forth between them. “Okay.” He said slowly and sat down. “She can stay. Go ahead and talk. What’s going on?”

Stiles shut the door to his dad’s office and sat down. “A few years ago, a student of mine and Allison’s told us that he had feelings for both of us. It was just before the whole thing with Harris went down, but even so, we weren’t interested in risking our jobs or our lives, for the most part, to be with him. We told him that one day, after he finished college? If he still wanted one of us and that person was single, then sure. But not a second before that. If I was going to put any name on my arm, it would be more likely to be his. I mean, if it had to be a student of mine...” He said carefully. “But it would be more likely that if this was some kind of prank or something, I’d put his name on Allison’s arm. Not mine. And hers are both blank because today is not her birthday or her soulmate’s birthday. I just want that made clear, at least to you, because I suspect that Erica’s parents aren’t going to be too happy about my name being on her arm. If I’m right, it’s there. But I don’t know why.” 

Allison clasped her hands together. “I… made a joke earlier, about… soulmates. I still don’t quite believe it, but I think it might - I mean, I don’t understand why else a student’s name would magically appear on her teacher’s arm. He sure as hell didn’t put it there, and I was with him all night yesterday. We fell asleep at the same time. Unless he got up in the middle of the night to visit a tattoo parlor with shapeshifting ink, which I highly doubt, then… this has to be something mystical, something we just don’t understand.”

John rubbed a hand over his mouth. “Okay.” He said, exhaling. “I’m not saying I believe in this… supernatural who-knows-what, but…” he trailed off, grimacing. “I’m just going to take pictures and take notes and let you two go while I try to get a grasp on what’s happening and what you’ve told me.”

“Okay. But yeah.” Stiles murmured, propping his forearm on the desk. “The shapeshifting ink might help, as a clue? Erica’s name and address are here, but her address changed after I saw it. Like I’m able to see where she is. It makes me feel a little like a stalker... anyway, should I talk to her? Or her parents, at least? I don’t think she’s eighteen yet.” 

“I’d say let her - them - come forward first.” John sighed. “Because they probably will, if they haven’t yet. The Sheriff’s son’s name inked on their daughter’s skin? Yeah, they’ll come right for me.”

“If they want to talk to me, I’d prefer to do it here, if that’s okay? With someone acting as a witness. It doesn’t have to be one of you, it can be a lawyer, maybe. Or a mediator.” Stiles snorted. “Or Lydia. She won’t take shit from anybody.” 

Allison nodded rapidly. “She’s terrifying when she wants to be. No one will cross her. I recommend her for sitting in.” She glanced at Stiles. “Just to be safe.”

“Alright. That’s if they want to talk to you, though,” John told Stiles. 

“Right.” Stiles looked pale. “Oh god, they can’t like, get a restraining order against me, can they? Without cause? They could probably make her transfer. I don’t want that, either.” He felt sick to his stomach. 

John shook his head. “I can’t stop them from doing anything they want to do, but trying to get a restraining order because your names are on each other’s skin is too far out there right now to be believed and granted. I don’t think they can try for a restraining order without cause. I can’t stop them from making her transfer, if that’s what they want to do, but - this is the headstrong blonde girl, right? If it’s not something she agrees with, they might have a fight on their hands, and they might lose.”

Stiles smiled. “Yeah, that’s her.” He agreed. He glanced at Allison. “You wanna go ahead and handle the phones? I’m going for a walk.” He wasn’t going to necessarily track Erica down, but if he happened to bump into her because she was looking for him? That wasn’t going to be his fault. 

Allison smiled at him. “Go on, I’ve got this,” She agreed. 

John waved him off. “Have a good walk, kiddo.” He murmured, giving his son a small smile. 

Stiles grinned at his dad and put his hoodie back on, leaving the building and tucking his hands in his pockets. Every autumn, he bought himself gloves and lost them somewhere just as the weather started to actually get cold. He was pretty sure that Walter had the last pair. He walked toward Main Street, carefully avoiding patches of ice on the sidewalk. It wasn’t very cold, but the melting snow always froze overnight and he had more than enough moments in his teen years of slipping and falling. Now that he was in his thirties, he liked to believe that he was past all of that, but he wasn’t going to tempt fate. Just thinking about it made him snort. He stopped in front of the coffee shop, then rubbed his arm self-consciously and went inside, wondering if Erica’s arm was warming up as the ink altered itself to tell her where to find him. 

Erica looked and felt dazed as she wandered down the street, her hand clutching the inside of her arm where her teacher’s name was printed. It had appeared first thing that morning when she’d woken up, and she had no idea what it had meant, other than it had given her an excellent method of knowing where her extremely attractive teacher was. It was magic, she was certain of it, and she had no intention of showing it to her parents. The stress of Harris’ actions toward Cora Hale two years ago had caused everyone to look at the school with suspicion, and the last thing she wanted was for her parents to flip their lids and come after Stiles. But that didn’t mean she wouldn’t come find him. She looked up at the coffee shop apprehensively, but made her way inside, searching the small crowd for him. 

Stiles waved his hand at Erica, a guarded look on his face as he glanced around for any sign of her parents. When he didn’t see them, he sighed in relief and smiled. “Hey.” He murmured. “I figured you would come find me. I couldn’t exactly go looking for you.” 

Erica stared at him as she moved closer. “You _wanted_ to come looking for me, though?” She asked, licking her lips nervously. 

Stiles didn’t dare uncover his arm, but he tapped two fingers against it and looked back up at Erica. “Yeah. So we can at least discuss this. Maybe figure out what it means and why it’s happening, and not just to us. It can’t be a blood type thing, I don’t think, since we’d all be covered in names. Or at least, that’s what I’m assuming. Ally thinks it’s a soulmate thing. I don’t... I don’t have the first clue what to think about that.” 

“Soulmate?” Erica repeated softly, still staring at the older man. The idea blew her mind. She’d made playful advances toward Stiles for the last few years that he’d been her teacher, and she hadn’t minded being rebuffed then - but the knowledge, the idea, that he might actually be the one person in the world that worked as her other half was almost too much. She couldn’t figure out if she was elated or terrified. “We can discuss,” she said after a beat, her eyes now locked on the spot Stiles had covered. All she wanted now was to see her name - her _claim_ \- on his skin. 

Stiles took in the look on Erica’s face, then nodded to himself and angled his body to keep prying eyes away from them, even though he figured anyone paying attention would know by now what was going on. He tugged his sleeve down to his elbow, giving the blonde girl’s arm a pointed look. “Let me see, too?” 

Erica nodded, dumbfounded, and she pulled up her own sleeve, her eyes still locked on Stiles’ arm. 

Seeing his name on her skin made Stiles gulp, but it also felt strangely normal. He noted that the addresses under both of their names matched, and a glance at the door confirmed that it was the address of the coffee shop they were standing in. “I guess this means I have to be careful where I go from now on.” He remarked, snorting. “Since you can just look up any of the addresses on your arm and give me shit about it in class.” 

Erica ducked her head and grinned before looking back up at him. “You mean you _don’t_ want me stalking you at all hours?” She teased and leaned a little closer. 

“Just keep in mind that if you ditch class, I’ll know exactly where to find you.” Stiles countered. “Okay, so this is the odd question, but it’s something I have to ask. Your birthday is when?” 

“July first.” Erica replied, squinting at him. “Why?”

“Because it’s the same thing I said three years ago.” Stiles said quietly. “I don’t want anyone thinking I’m like Harris. I’m not saying this is going in a particular direction, but other people might assume that and I don’t want to add to their suspicions while you’re seventeen.” 

Erica frowned. “But… if your name is on my arm - it’s not like you put it there, it would be stupid to be suspicious of you. And you could never be like that scrawny pervert.” She added loyally, lifting her chin in the air. “And if someone is actually stupid enough to think so, then they clearly need to get their head checked.”

“It’s my actual worst nightmare.” Stiles murmured. “Even as a kid, I’d wake up crying at the idea of my dad arresting me.” He laughed softly. “Do you want anything in here? Can you have coffee, or does it mess with your epilepsy? I feel like I should already know that.”

Erica looked a little thrown, and then smiled. “If I drink coffee, it’s usually decaffeinated, and even then, only in really small amounts. They think that the caffeine is what causes seizures.” She told him, her eyes warm as she gazed at him.

Stiles smiled. “Then maybe we’re better off with hot chocolate or apple cider? Besides, I already had a cup of coffee and I swear Walter can tell if I drink more than one cup. He actually follows me around the house to mutter at me if he thinks I’m overly-caffeinated. I don’t feel like dealing with his crap today.” 

Erica giggled quietly. “You have a weird dog.” She told him, but she looked delighted at the thought. “Apple cider is good. I’d like that.”

“Okay.” Stiles ordered two apple ciders and some gingerbread cookies when it was his turn in line. He carried everything over to a table and sat down, sending Allison a text. ‘Having apple cider and cookies. I’ll bring you something when I’m done.’ He put his phone into his pocket and looked at Erica. “I thought it was some kind of prank from Allison, before your location changed.” He admitted. “I keep thinking of it as ink, but I don’t think that’s what it is, after all. This much would poison me, probably. And my name takes up at least half of your arm, right?”

Erica nodded, looking a little astounded. “Quite a mouthful you’ve got there, Stilinski.” She teased. “I had to type it into my computer to even begin to try to understand what the hell it said. It’s Polish, right?” She studied him closely. “Something important.”

“It means ‘sword’ and ‘glory.’ It was my mom’s father’s name, too.” Stiles smiled. “And my dad’s idea to make me have a name bigger than me. At least at birth, anyway. It’s just easier to go by Stiles, and my dad got over his irritation with the nickname around the time I turned three.” He bit into one of the gingerbread cookies. “I’m one of the rare people with no middle name.” 

Erica followed his example, grinning. “Yeah, well, I think your first name and your nickname more than make up for the lack of a middle name.” She murmured, and bit into the cookie with a content sigh. She set it down and took a sip of her cider. 

“It sounds condescending out loud.” Stiles murmured. “I thought maybe if a lot of adults were being, uh, connected to teens or kids? It was some kind of guardian thing. Not like, legal paperwork and contact info stuff, just...” He fell silent, trying to choose his words carefully. “Like a ‘mission from God’ thing. If you assume God exists and also decided it was a good idea to pair people up by putting names on their arms. But that would be more accurate if it was your name on my arm and not my name on yours, right? So maybe Allison’s theory is more correct than mine.” 

Erica looked up at him apprehensively. “And her theory is…” She trailed off questioningly, biting her lower lip. “Are we supposed to be… um, that’s - that’s her legitimate theory, that you… and I are…”

“Soulmates.” Stiles finished, shaking his head a little. “I know, it’s odd. Not something I think I really believe in. This world is chaotic. The idea of soulmates is a little too perfect. But at the same time, it’s also not perfect? I don’t know. I mean, imagine that every single person on the planet has one person they’re meant to be with for the rest of their life. The odds of all of them living in close proximity is unlikely. What if you’re, I don’t know, in prison and your soulmate is on the other side of the world? You’ll never meet them. If they’re smart, they’ll probably never want to meet you. We’re not all teachers or students, some people are serial killers or...” He trailed off, wondering if he was saying too much and going off the deep end. He tried to remind himself that Erica was only seventeen, but that just made him launch into another rant. “You’re kind of too young to be tied to one person for the rest of your life, anyway. The idea of... it’s not fair, thinking that everyone should only be with whoever’s name is on their arm. I have to look up something.” He muttered, grabbing his phone out of his pocket. 

Erica blinked, but sat back, furrowing her brow. “I think it’s off-putting,” she admitted slowly. “To… one day have this realization that there’s someone out there that you really are meant to be with for the rest of your life. And it isn’t even just a gradual mental realization, it’s physical enough that it’s all over the morning news in fifteen minutes flat. I think that if I could choose to, though… I mean, I’d be okay with it. I… _am_ okay with it, really. I’ve had the biggest, stupidest crush on you since freshman year.” She cleared her throat. “But… with certain stuff happening, I kinda figured that maybe it would be better for me to, uh, not make an ass out of myself. That, and I was convinced until that speech you gave sophomore year that you were totally sleeping with Argent.”

“No, she’s like my sister.” Stiles insisted, laughing. “Uh, so I guess babies born today have their marks already. Luckily, they’re not with adults, because that would be really gross. If this is some kind of legitimate thing, then at least the universe isn’t a complete asshole.” He shoved his phone back into his pocket. “I still think that you should take time, no matter what these marks really mean, to get away from here. Go to college or travel. Whatever.” It was the same advice he had given Scott. Idly, he wondered if the guy in question had a mark on his arm today, or if it was coming later. “Have you applied anywhere, yet?” 

Erica nodded. “Yeah, I mean, we all did. Anyone that went to that college fair they had a while back, I mean. I’m Hispanic, so I’m getting a scholarship for that alone, but I don’t really want to go too far from home, you know? I never have. I’m not Jackson Whittemore and the obsession he has with getting into Harvard, I just want a decent college with a four year program that’ll give me a degree I like.” She paused, and then shrugged. “And if that doesn’t fall through, I have a ten-step plan that’ll get me into the Oval Office without needing to study a lick. I mean, how hard can it be, right? Trump managed it, and he’s dumb as a doornail.”

“If any of those steps are ‘profit,’ we need to have a talk about cartoons.” Stiles teased. “You were really good at figuring out what was wrong with the car we worked on. I’m not saying that automatically makes you a mechanic, but I’m pretty sure they make a lot of money. I mean, they charge a lot.” 

Erica smiled faintly, tilting her head thoughtfully. “Yeah, but I don’t want to be a dick and overcharge some poor chump that’s barely making it, you know? Still… it was pretty fun, figuring out the ins and outs and what was making the noise in the carburetor.” She rubbed her chin and glanced at him with a smile. “That’s a definite idea. I think I’ve gotta go to an automotive school for that, don’t I?”

“Yeah, and that shouldn’t take four years.” Stiles couldn’t help smiling, thinking of what Erica would look like in two or three years, the smear of oil on her face that every mechanic seemed to have. He wondered why he wasn’t more freaked out about how calm he was, since that seemed to be how things went for him. He wasn’t sure he ever experienced one emotional state at a time. 

Erica grinned softly at him, nibbling her lower lip. She loved the fact that he’d narrowed down her possibilities, just like that. She’d been fighting a losing battle against her crush on him, and now that it was a possibility that he could actually be hers, the crush had made a roaring comeback. She had to take a slow, deep breath to try and calm herself down.

Stiles knew that when school resumed, things would be a little more difficult. He sat back in his seat, glancing around warily before he looked at Erica again. “Lydia - uh, Ms. Martin - is better at the math involved in this than I am, but if everyone gets a mark on their birthday and their... fuck it, we’ll just say soulmate, I guess. If their soulmate gets a corresponding mark, then every living person in the world should have their marks by the end of June. And your birthday is July first...” He stopped, laughing. “So you’re literally the start of the second wave of this, like I was involved in the first one. Unless I’m wrong and we’re the only ones getting these things. I guess we’ll find out tonight.” 

Erica nodded. “Yeah, I guess it’s just… it’s the sort of thing that we just have to take as it comes, right? If we’re the only ones like this… But I mean, even if we aren’t…” She furrowed her brow. “What happens if people don’t get one? I mean, if nearly everyone in the world has a mark popping up, there has to be people that just… won’t, right?”

“It’s an interesting theory.” Stiles murmured. “Because the implication is that all soulmates are romantic, and that’s not necessarily true. Some people are aromantic or asexual, so anyone they have as a soulmate would maybe have to be, as well? Or not, and that’s going to get complicated.” 

Erica hummed. “Putting it mildly.” She agreed. “So… maybe if there are people that don’t have a soulmate - maybe there are platonic soulmates. Or maybe there are people who don’t have a mark at all, and maybe there are people that _do_ have a mark, but they’ll never find their soulmate.” She furrowed her brow.

“Because their soulmate is in prison.” Stiles reiterated, laughing. “I think we shouldn’t worry about them, right now. This is still new and we need to figure out... I don’t know. Something? I’m fifteen years older than you. That’s a problem for me. At least currently. I know I'm not the most mature person, but age matters a little bit. And like I said, you might find that you’re more attracted to just about anyone else on the planet. And there’s the fact that I’m your teacher and that’s a whole bunch of other problems. We can’t hide these names forever. It’s easy enough now, but when it gets warmer, not so much.” 

Erica grimaced. “I can grab some concealer?” She suggested. “I can apply it like a damn Hollywood professional now. The way they cover up tattoos for movie roles, I mean. It’d have to be touched up pretty frequently, but if it can cover us straight through to the end of the year - to my graduation, then… we’d be a little more in the clear, right? I don’t really care about the teacher thing, but I know you do. I don’t wanna screw you over. But I don’t really care about the age thing, either. My dad’s fifty-five, and my mom’s thirty-eight. He got her pregnant with my older brother when she was eighteen.”

“It’s just that you’re not eighteen yet.” Stiles murmured. “But I think friendship is a good start.”

Erica bit her lip, but nodded. “Yeah. Okay. But… I’m not going to be seventeen much longer.” She stared at him. “And the minute I turn eighteen, don’t be shocked if I show up on your front step.”

“Well, it’s not like I could hide.” Stiles snorted. “And I have a feeling that if anyone tried to stop you, they would end up with broken bones.” 

“ _Yeah_ , they would.” Erica drawled, grinning widely. “Severely broken bones. Lots of them.”

Stiles watched Erica for a moment, feeling like the universe really had done him a favor, after all. In the years he had known her, Erica had been just as eager to challenge him as he had once tried to challenge other people, although that behavior had faded out over the years. He felt like her open interest in him and blatant refusal to back off, in light of their names on each other’s arms, had reignited something in him. “Then I guess it’s also a bad idea to cover my door in police tape?” He smirked. 

Erica snorted. “Scissors.” She replied, outright beaming at him now as she leaned forward over the table, her chin resting on her hand.

“Yeah?” Stiles eyed the empty cup in front of him, getting up from the table and hiding his smile. “Then I guess the only thing left is to tell you this.” He put his hands on the table and leaned down toward her. “Game on.” He left the coffee shop, practically sprinting back to the station and laughing wildly when he realized that he had forgotten to pick up something to bring to Allison. He couldn’t go back now, it would ruin the effect of him having the last word. He would just have to tell her to get her own damned cookies. 

Allison looked up, raising her eyebrows in surprise. “Uh, hi, Cackles. What’s got you in such a good mood?”

“Erica.” Stiles said bluntly. “Also, I forgot your cookies. Sorry.” He sat down by her. “I’ll go back and get you double the cookies, but you have to give me some time. I want to make sure Erica’s not at the coffee shop, first.” He waved his arm. “I can do that now. I told her she has to wait until she’s eighteen, and she said that when she does turn eighteen, she’s coming to find me. I told her she wouldn’t have to look very hard.” He smiled. “It’s messed up, probably. But I’m looking forward to this. To every second I spend with her over the next few months, too. I haven’t felt like this in a long time. Possibly ever.” 

Allison grinned slowly, reaching out to lightly smack his shoulder. “Good for you.” She told him honestly. “I’m glad, you absolutely deserve to have this, Stiles. You know for a fact that Erica Reyes is definitely one person that isn’t going to let anything get in the way of something she wants.” She grinned a little wider. “Turns out, that really is you, and she wasn’t just playing around the last few years.”

“I hope you get to experience this.” Stiles smiled. “It’s great. She’s actually been having an issue about what to do after high school, I guess? I told her she should look into becoming a mechanic. She’s good at that. It was like watching the sunrise. She just looked like... like the world made sense. It was incredible.” 

Allison’s eyes softened, and something like want crossed her face. She took a deep breath. “That sounds nice.” She murmured. “It sounds wonderful, really. I hope I get to experience that, too.”

“I don’t see it going any other way for you but good, and the fact that I’m saying that means something, right?” Stiles rubbed his forearm self-consciously, smiling to himself. 

Allison grinned and gently bumped her shoulder against his. “It means everything.” She murmured, nodding.


	9. Monday, January 6th

On the first day back at work, Stiles took down the Christmas decorations and tossed them into the plastic bin he had been storing them in, putting the lid on it and setting it aside. His arm flared up with heat and he knew instinctively that Erica was in the building. He smiled to himself. In the past few days, the world had mostly calmed down, although there were a few troubling accounts of soulmates meeting and things going wrong. People who thought they hated one another their entire lives made for interesting news for some and warnings for others. Some racist had ended up with a foreign-born trilingual person and the racist’s family was threatening lawsuits against anyone who they thought had prayed to the devil to make the connection happen; said racist was actually happier than he had ever been. Stiles felt lucky that he didn’t have to deal with that, but the fear of losing his job kept him from going looking for the blonde. He wasn’t so sure he could hide his enthusiasm for her, and there weren’t any laws protecting soulmates, yet. 

Cora wandered into class and took a seat, giving Stiles a small smile and a wave in greeting. She hadn’t seen him since right before the winter break. “How was your Christmas?” She asked, as Jackson came into the room, followed by several other students in quick succession.

“Christmas was all right.” Stiles smiled back at Cora. “Walter got a new rawhide bone, but he decided he would rather have my gloves to chew on. I finally found time to max out a couple of toons on World of Warcraft. Did... did any of you get marks in the past few days?” 

“I didn’t.” Cora shook her head. “But… my sister did. She’s a little put-out that her mark says that Sian Powers, whoever the hell that is, is in England.”

Jackson looked annoyed. “I haven’t gotten a mark.” He muttered. 

There were several more murmurs from the rest of the students, saying that they had, or that they hadn’t, and Erica didn’t dare open her mouth, however badly she wanted to.

Stiles wondered if anyone else remembered that he had once told them that his birthday was January first. He decided not to press the issue. “Lydia - uh, Ms. Martin, sorry. She already got on my case about the likelihood of everyone having a soulmate this soon. If you don’t have one yet, don’t panic. Statistically, more birthdays occur in July, August and September than the other months of the year. If you haven’t gotten a soulmate by graduation, you’ll definitely have one before Thanksgiving.” 

Jackson looked slightly mollified by Stiles’ words and leaned back in his seat, relaxing. “What about you, Teach?” He asked, raising his eyebrows. “Any names on your arm?”

Erica tensed and looked down at her book.

“Actually, I do have one.” Stiles murmured. “But I don’t want to discuss it right now. I have my reasons.” 

Cora looked delighted. “Understood. But that’s amazing, Mister S.” She told him, smiling. 

“Thanks, Cora. I’m definitely happy about it.” Stiles admitted. “I’m looking forward to seeing the rest of you meet yours.” 

Erica pressed her lips together and kept her head down, but she couldn’t stop the smile from crossing her lips. She managed to glance up long enough to give Stiles a playful wink before wiping her expression clear again. “Thanks, Mister S.” She murmured.

Stiles nodded to Erica. “What did all of you do during winter break? And where were you when you heard about the soulmate outbreak, for lack of a better term? I’ll give twenty points to everyone who answers, but raise your hands if you have something to say.” 

Several hands shot up at once, more eager for the twenty points than because they actually had something to say, and looked expectantly at Stiles to be called on.

Stiles smiled. “Hmm. Scott?” He turned toward the teen. “You go first.” 

Scott blinked, looking startled to be called on, but gave the older man a tentative smile. Things hadn’t turned out the way he’d expected them to, between himself and Stiles, or himself and Allison, given the fact that he’d ended up dating a girl a year younger than him from the other school in Beacon Hills. Malia wasn’t anything like Stiles or Allison, and she wasn’t conventionally similar to anyone he ever thought he’d be attracted to, but he thought she was brilliant, and he kind of adored her. “Oh, uh. Well, I was spending most of my time at the hospital with my mom, helping out where I could. When I wasn’t there, I was helping Doctor Deaton out at the animal clinic. And that’s actually where I was when the soulmate thing happened, because I’d gone in early to help out with the kittens.”

Stiles made a note to give Scott twenty points for participation. “How are the kittens doing?” 

Scott grinned. “They’re tiny little balls of evil intent on using me for a pincushion, but they’re happy tiny little balls of evil that also enjoy sleeping on my shoulders or in my hair, so I figure it’s a win-win.”

Stiles laughed. “Well, hopefully they’ll be adopted. I’d get one for Walter to play with, but he would probably hate me for it.” He looked around the room. “Jackson?” 

Jackson lowered his hand and rubbed his chin with the other. “I was in Boston,” he said. “We spent the entire break there so I could scout colleges, but it was really just an excuse for me to keep touring Harvard.” He admitted, shrugging and smirking faintly. “And yeah, that’s where we were when the soulmate thing went down.”

Stiles got an idea for a writing assignment, even though he had already planned out the semester. He sat down at his desk and opened the lesson plan book, looking up and calling on another student as he skimmed over the assignments he had in mind. He grimaced as something else occurred to him. “Shit.” He whispered, putting his head down for a second. He sat up straight again. “Okay, here’s the thing.” He began. “I hate Romeo and Juliet. I know I say it all the time, but since it’s one of the books I'm required to teach you at some point in the four years you take my class, I always put it off until the eighth semester. By that time, you’re more focused on getting the hell out of this place and you’re not going to start looking for your own - well, your own soulmate.” He snorted. “But since this just became culturally relevant, I’m changing what I had in mind for the essay I wanted you to write when we cover it, and you’re going to interview at least three sets of soulmates and write your paper about them. You can frame it however you want, talking about how it’s a horrible thing or a great thing, or doing a comparison between all three sets. Or whatever else you want to do with the information you gather. It’s not due until the end of the semester, along with your other papers. Most of what we’re doing in here is reading and discussing things.” 

There were quiet murmurs of interest from most of the students sitting there, and the majority of them turned to properly face Stiles to listen properly.

Scott squinted at him. “Does it have to be three sets? What if we find one person, but their, uh…” He bit his lip. “What if their soulmate is gone?”

“I think that counts.” Stiles nodded. “In fact, I’d love to read that. And if you write something well enough, I’ll see about getting it published in a national newspaper. I'm not kidding.” 

Scott’s eyes went wide - as did Cora’s, Erica’s, and several other students. “Whoa.” Scott blurted. 

Stiles smiled. “Yeah. And if it’s extensive enough and uses actual scientific data to back up something, and that includes psychological aspects? I’ll contact people who publish medical journals or magazines. I believe that all of you, over the last four years, have developed the skills to be better than most of the articles in print these days.” 

Immediately, excited murmurs erupted across the room as the students all hurriedly began opening their notebooks and writing Stiles’ instructions down.

Erica eyed Stiles with a small smile. She wanted to tell him how much she loved his idea, but she had a feeling it would come out a lot more intimately than she wanted other people to be capable of witnessing. She had to figure out a way to text him, and her brain ran through the idea of burner phones.

Stiles felt like he was a teenager again as he scrawled a note and set it, face-down, on Erica’s desk. ‘At some point, it’s going to be safe for us to tell everybody. Do you think it’s too much to say something in this room now?’ He sat down on his desk and looked over at her, his hands resting on his knees. 

Erica bit down on her lower lip as she read over his note, keeping it folded toward her body in case anyone happened to be trying to peer over her shoulder at it. She cocked her head to the side thoughtfully, and then looked up at him. After a moment, she gave her head a quick shake, and then tried to figure out how to communicate to him that she wanted to keep things between them as they started to navigate their future without catching other people's attention.

Stiles nodded back to her in understanding. He was getting carried away and he knew it, and he appreciated that she was more calm about their situation. He finally understood Allison’s behavior around Scott, two years earlier. “Is there anyone in here who actually doesn’t know what Romeo and Juliet is about?” He asked suddenly, a skeptical look on his face. 

“Stupid teenagers and their hormones?” Jackson piped up, looking bored.

Cora looked over at him, unimpressed. She paused, and then frowned. “... Well, he’s partially right.” She looked around, trying to figure out if there actually was anyone in the class that had no idea what the story was about. She looked back at Stiles and lifted her eyebrows when no one responded.

Stiles laughed. “Okay.” He murmured. “Yeah, basically. The people in Verona decided that there were two sides in town, pretty much. The Montagues were one side, the Capulets were another. You’ve seen this exact same thing a hundred times, in Grease and West Side Story and everything like it. Romeo and Juliet decided that they were going to renounce their families and marry each other, even though they were fourteen years old and Romeo had just been talking about another girl about three minutes before he saw Juliet and decided they were meant to be together. And of course, after they both died - oh yeah, spoiler alert - their families called a truce. Because nothing brings warring people together faster than teenage suicide. The reason this is so well-known, in my opinion, is because it’s meant to make fun of teenage romance. But there are a lot of people who think it’s the ideal relationship. You should never want to die for another person, you should want to live for them.” He remarked. “But that’s just my two cents. I’m not even expecting you to read this, or re-read it. But you’ll want to use at least one quote in your papers. You don’t have to write it out and cite the page number, since that’s not really done in magazine articles or newspapers. Just find a way to quote it in a way that makes sense. I expect this to be anywhere from three to twenty pages, depending on how in-depth you want to go with it. And even though it’s not due until later on, you can turn it in as soon as you’re done with it.” 

“So can we use the quote we choose mockingly?” Erica asked. “Or does it have to be a completely serious paper?”

“If you want to take a cynical look at soulmates, you can.” Stiles smiled. “It’s not my job to tell any of you what to think. My job has always been to tell you how to express that opinion on paper, in a way to convince other people that you’re right.” 

Erica grinned. “I’m always right anyway, I figured beating the idea into people verbally would make it more fun.” She teased him, suddenly aware that if she stopped her traditional method of interacting with Stiles - that was to say, if she stopped flirting with him, batting her eyelashes at him, and spewing increasingly racy remarks his way - people would be more suspicious of her than they would be if she continued on that way.

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear you admitting to violent behavior.” Stiles remarked, catching on to what his soulmate was doing. “I almost feel sorry for whoever you end up with. For the record, I’ve graded your tests. I think my red pen disagrees with your self-assessment.” 

Erica stuck her tongue out at him. “My self-assessment is that your red pen can assess itself.” She paused, blinking at the words in confusion. “I don’t think that makes sense. But it sounded funny, so I’m sticking with it.” She grinned, winking at Stiles. 

Stiles laughed. “I would have gone with something like ‘go click itself,’ but whatever, I guess yours works.” He wanted to find an excuse to talk to her after class, but he knew that his habitually chatty students, Cora and Scott, would have something to say to him after the bell rang, and Erica never stayed. For her to stay now would be too obvious. 

Erica bit her lower lip, grinning at him. “It works, but I like the way you think, Mister S.” She crooned at him. Again, burner phones crossed her mind, and she furrowed her brow, trying to think of how she’d get one to him. She was desperate to be able to communicate with him, and the thought of keeping it a secret gave her a thrill.

“If I had a dollar for every time I’ve heard that from you over the years, I could retire and move to Hawaii.” Stiles looked around the room. “I’m guessing you’re all interested in getting your papers written as soon as possible, since being published looks really good to universities. So for that reason, I’m telling all of you to get up and go to the library or the police station. Reports of the marks are public record, and that means you can interview anyone in the country. I’d prefer you stayed local, but I think you should do what you’re comfortable with.” 

“So we’re allowed to interview your dad?” Scott asked, squinting at Stiles. “I mean, if he’s willing to share the records, I guess?” He paused. “... Like, we can include him and his perspective of it all, along with the soulmates?”

“Sure.” Stiles nodded. “My parents were probably as close to soulmates as two people could be, without the marks. I think he would like to talk about that with someone who hasn’t heard his stories a thousand times.” 

Cora’s eyes softened, and she smiled. “I’d love to talk to him.” She said softly. “He knew my parents, too. Maybe he knew some stuff about them that I didn’t.”

“That would be an interesting angle.” Stiles murmured. “How your parents got together, versus the relationship with your sister and the person whose name is on her arm, and maybe before you’re done writing it, you’ll get your own mark. Even if you don’t, it would make a nice contrast. Maybe you should encourage her to go meet him, and go with her to document it.” 

Cora blinked and nodded thoughtfully. “We could look him up on the internet. Maybe he has a facebook.” She murmured. “She deserves a chance to be happy. Would that be okay, though?” She asked, squinting a little. “Taking time off from school to follow my sister over to the other side of the planet because of someone she’s potentially meant to be with?”

“Well, I didn’t exactly say ‘take time off’, I said that you should go with her. You should be able to email in your assignments or find a way to get an extension. I don’t see you needing more than a few weeks.” Stiles mused. 

Cora nodded. “Okay.” She murmured, and smiled. “Thanks. It’s a really good idea. And it gets Laura to stop whining.”

“Is it that bad?” Stiles laughed. “How old is she, now?” 

Cora grinned. “She’s about six years younger than you. And Derek’s about midway between us both.”

“Yeah, well...” Stiles paused. “You’re not seriously all sitting here, listening to me talk, are you?” He looked around at his students. “Go do research!” 

There was a mad scramble, and the class made a break for the door, nearly as a whole. The only students that lingered were Cora and Scott, though Erica did her best to trail as slowly as she possibly could toward the door.

Stiles turned toward Cora and Scott. “I don’t know what I’m going to do next year, when the two of you are in college.” He smiled. “You’re the only ones that stick around to talk after class.” He glanced toward Erica, wanting to talk to her and ask her what she was doing her report on. He wanted to ask her what her favorite food was and a thousand other questions, too. But he only had about an hour a day to spend with her, and it was in front of a lot of teenagers who needed his attention, too. “How were you, really?” He asked Cora and Scott, looking back at them. 

Cora smiled. “Good. Things were very good. Laura and Derek and I took a trip out to Aspen and celebrated Yule. Laura butchered a Yule log while she tried to make it, and Derek showed her up.” She grinned faintly. “I went skiing and tried to avoid trees.”

Scott choked out a laugh, glancing down at her. “Glad you didn’t break your nose.” He told her. “Or anything else. That would’ve sucked.” He looked back at Stiles. “We were good, too. I think my mom’s dating someone, but she won’t tell me who. And my girlfriend spent the holiday with us, too, which was cool.”

Stiles smiled at Scott, not wanting to ruin the teen’s good mood by mentioning that the odds of his mark matching Malia’s being really slim. “Can I hug both of you?” He asked. “It’s really hitting me that this is the last semester you’ll be here.” 

Cora was instantly holding out her arms to hug him, smiling softly. “It’s hitting us, too.” She said softly. “We’re going to miss you so much.”

Scott hugged Stiles’ other side. “We really are. College is going to blow, the teachers there aren’t going to give as much of a crap as you do.”

“Don’t think that means that they don’t care, though.” Stiles protested. “They’ll have some classes that have a hundred or more students at a time.” He put his arms around the teens. “Promise me that no matter what, you’ll at least text or call me once in awhile.” 

“Of course we will.” Scott laughed. “We’ll need to when we hit our first panic spiral in the first week.”

Cora raised an eyebrow. “You’re going to panic the first week?” She teased. “At least leave it for a little while longer.”

“Wait until midterms.” Stiles added, laughing. “But if you do start to panic, call me. I don’t care what week it is. Or what time it is.” 

“We definitely would have, anyway.” Cora assured him, exhaling softly and resting her head briefly against his chest. She’d always thought that Stiles had the same warmth that her brother only had toward family, and it made her feel special that the warmth extended toward her. She liked to take advantage of his hugs whenever she got the chance to do so.

“I expect invitations to weddings one day, too.” Stiles demanded. “And college graduations.” He pulled away, looking at them. “You’d better go on to your next class. I don’t want to cause you to be late.” 

Cora smiled shakily and squeezed his arm, nodding. “We’ll see you later.” She murmured.

Scott patted Stiles’ shoulder affectionately. “Later, man.” He said softly.

Erica waited silently around the corner, keeping herself as hidden as possible just by using a door, until she saw Scott and Cora walk away. She hurried back into the classroom and swung the door shut behind her, staring at Stiles. “Hi.” She blurted. “I’m getting us phones to use, because not being able to tell you what I’m thinking in the middle of class because I might blurt out some stuff that I don’t wanna blurt out sucks balls.”

Stiles laughed. “Yeah.” He nodded. “I think Allison, Lydia and my dad are the only ones who know that it’s you. I don’t want to tell anyone else. But at the same time, I want to tell everyone else. I have to wait six months, I know.” 

Erica smiled crookedly and stepped closer. “It won’t be a long wait.” She murmured. “It’ll pass faster than we’ll both expect.” 

“I know.” Stiles murmured. “And then you’ll go off to college for at least two years and I’ll be here when you get back.” 

Erica took another tentative step, staring up at him. “I’ll be coming back a lot more, knowing I’ve got you to come back to.” She told him frankly. “Plenty of vacations and breaks. Lots of weekends.”

Stiles’ smile widened. “You’re going to be late for class, you know?” He glanced down at his hands, wondering if he could get away with holding her close for a minute. 

Erica grinned up at him, her head cocked to the side. “I know.” She murmured, and closed the space between them, barely touching him, but close enough to kiss if she wanted to - and she wanted to, very badly.

Stiles’ lips parted, and he glanced toward the door before he remembered that she had closed it. He put his hands on her shoulders and leaned in to press his lips against hers. 

Erica surged up with a whimper, clutching at his sides as she kissed him back.

Stiles’ lips twitched when he finally pulled away. “I want to do that again. But not here? I mean, I want to do that again here. But I know we shouldn’t.” 

Erica bit her lower lip, grinning at him. “I definitely want to do that again, and do it again here, and do more than that, too. But I can wait until I’m legal.” She brushed her fingers over his chest. “I promise.”

Stiles glanced down at Erica’s hands, then gave her a pointed look. “Burner phones?” He asked, referring to their earlier conversation. “Do you want to buy both, so it’s not quite so obvious? I mean, if we both go buy one out of nowhere, that’s kind of telling.” 

Erica made a face and stuck her tongue out at him before she pulled her hands away. “Yeah, I’ll get both. If anyone sees and asks me, I’ll just say that I suck at keeping my actual phone safe, and I’m getting them both for back-up.”

Stiles got his wallet out of his pocket and handed money to Erica. “That’s for mine.” He murmured. “Maybe I can say I'm hiring you to take Walter for walks?” He blurted, grimacing when the warning bell rang. “Then you can come over whenever and it won’t look weird.” 

Erica grinned. “Sneaky. I like it.” She slipped the money into her front pocket, and then looked around quickly before darting back in to kiss him once more, before she pulled back. She gazed at him for a long moment. “I’d better get to class. I’ll get the phones tonight and drop yours off tomorrow?”

“Come over to my house today.” Stiles smiled. “I usually take Walter for a walk around eight-thirty. It’s his last one of the night. Allison will have to come with us on the walk, so it doesn’t look suspicious, I guess. But still, I don’t know how he’ll react to you walking him by yourself until he’s used to you.” 

Erica nodded. “Understood. I’ll be there.” She promised him, trying to refrain from lunging at him again. If she didn’t get to her next class right then, Stiles’ next class would see something she didn’t really want anyone but Stiles to see.


	10. Chapter 10

Stiles waited nervously for Erica, that night. He kept getting up to look outside and check the time on his phone. He glanced at Allison, sighing. “Okay.” He murmured. “I kissed her. It was after first period, she came back in after Cora and Scott left, and I couldn’t hold back anymore.”

Allison let out a tiny squeal, clapping her hand over her mouth. “That’s amazing. I mean, I’m glad - I’m kind of shocked you did it, honestly, but go you! How was it? Did it make you happy?”

“I’ve never been this happy.” Stiles grinned. “It sounds so crazy, I know. But I was just coasting through life and I had given up on relationships years ago. The whole thing with Lydia right after I met her was desperation. Erica’s brilliant and funny, and beautiful. Not that... I mean, yeah. Being around her feels different. You would think I would’ve seen sooner, but I wasn’t looking in her direction, I guess? Or maybe whatever this is, it’s like something unlocked. Whatever, I just really want it to happen for you.”

Allison smiled softly. “It’ll happen. If you believe it’ll happen for me, then I know it will.”

“You have a lot of faith in me, huh?” Stiles laughed. “I wish there was a way to make it happen faster.”

Allison let out a laugh. “Well, if you want to go back in time and tell my parents to induce my mom two months earlier…” she teased. “But yeah. I do have a lot of faith in you. You’re my best friend, I have every bit of faith in you that a person could have.”

Stiles hugged Allison, smiling. “Thank you.”

Allison hugged him back tightly, resting her head against his shoulder briefly. “You don’t need to thank me for telling you the truth.” She murmured, smiling before pulling back. Her head swiveled when she heard a knock on the door, and her smile widened as she looked back up at Stiles. “Your soulmate’s here.”

Stiles grinned again. “I know.” He held his arm up, then opened the door for Erica. “Hey! Come in. Walter, time for a walk!”

Erica grinned back at Stiles and stepped inside the house, giving Allison a small wave when she saw the older woman. She bent down to pet Walter when the greyhound skidded into the room and went right for her. “Hi! And hello, you. We’re going to be spending a little time together.” She told the dog, laughing and dodging a lick to her face.

Stiles watched Erica, awestruck by how quickly his grouchy old dog had befriended her. “You’re seeing this, yeah?” He asked Allison. “Amazing.”

“Unfair,” Allison corrected, laughing. “It took him three weeks before he decided he loved us. She has dog biscuits in her jeans,” she accused teasingly. 

“Well, maybe.” Erica grinned. “Maybe he’s just falling for my charm.” She reached up to rub at Walter’s scruff, her smile becoming gentle. “It really took him three weeks to like you guys?”

“He peed all over everything.” Stiles admitted, laughing. “He’d grumble if we changed the channel, and he would change it back with his paw if we didn’t guard the remote. He loves Sesame Street. I named him Walter because he reminds me of John Noble’s character on Fringe. He can’t talk, obviously. But I have a feeling that if he could, he would be deliberately getting Allison’s name wrong just to irritate her. Or mine. Maybe both. He might look like an overgrown puppy to other people, but I know that he’s actually a grouchy old man.” 

Allison nodded. “He totally is, and he totally would do that. Which is disappointing because we both adore the grump.” She knelt down next to Erica and hugged Walter around the neck. “We love you, pup.” She snorted and endured it when Walter jerked his head back and let his muzzle collide with her cheek.

Erica looked vaguely amused. “I sort of figured you named him Walter after that super-grouchy, super-creepy puppet. You know, the one that says, ‘Welcome to Wal-mart, get your shit and get out’?”

Stiles laughed. “No, the dog isn’t that mean.” He smiled. 

Erica grinned up at him, finally standing up. “Thanks for inviting me along.” She murmured softly. She wasn’t sure if she could approach him the way she wanted to yet, and she didn’t want to make Allison uncomfortable, but she really wanted to greet Stiles properly.

Stiles stared back at Erica, then turned his head to glance at Allison, silently asking for her opinion on his burgeoning relationship. He wanted to at least put his arms around Erica, but he was trying to be considerate. 

Allison rolled her eyes and made a shooing gesture at Stiles, nodding. She contented herself with getting a moderate amount of affection from the dog.

Stiles stepped around Allison and Walter, smiling hesitantly. “Can I kiss you again?” He asked Erica. “If you don’t want me to, that’s okay. No obligations here.” 

“Oh, my god, are you kidding me?” Erica blurted and lunged at him, her long spindly arms winding around his neck as she dragged his face down to hers.

Stiles laughed softly as he kissed Erica, his arms going around her waist. “It’s going to be really hard not to tell everyone about you.” He murmured. 

Erica kissed him back, the fingers of one hand dragging lightly through his hair. “I know.” She agreed quietly. “I’m already wishing I could tell everyone I know.” She sighed. “Hafta wait ‘til I’m eighteen. Gotta make it.”

Stiles nodded. He kissed Erica again. “Six months. We’ll just have to keep ourselves busy. Maybe I’ll get a second job.” He snorted. 

“He’ll do it, too.” Allison warned. “He’ll get so into it, he’ll forget to come up for air.”

Erica looked up at him. “Will you?” She asked, and jutted her lower lip out at him. “You wouldn’t forget about me, would you?” Her voice sounded teasing, and there was the tiniest hint of a grin tugging at the corners of her lips.

“Not even if I hit my head and got amnesia.” Stiles smiled. “Extra money isn’t going to hurt me, either. Maybe if things go well, we can go on a trip or something after you turn eighteen.” 

Erica gasped, looking delighted, and clutched at his forearms. “Disney World. The real one, the first one.”

“Okay.” Stiles grinned at her. “This July, then.” He nodded. “For now, though? We really need to get Walter out there for his last walk of the night, or he’ll be a complete brat tomorrow morning.” 

“Noted.” Erica nodded, and then glanced at Allison, reaching for the dog’s leash.

Allison grinned and gladly handed it over as she stood up and dusted her pants off. “Be prepared to stop for pretty much everything he wants to stop for.”

Stiles opened the door for Erica, stepping out onto the front porch to wait for her and Walter. “Have you ever been to Disney World?” 

Erica shook her head. “No, never,” She said as she stepped out of the house after Walter. “It was just… never really an opportunity that we could have.”

“Well, I’ve never been there, either.” Stiles smiled. “I haven’t even been across the country. Only about halfway.” 

Erica grinned. “So it’ll be a first for both of us, then.” She murmured. “I can’t wait.”

“Where else have you always wanted to go?” Stiles glanced over at Erica. He realized belatedly that Allison had stayed home instead of coming with them, but he didn’t care what anyone else said. They were only walking around outside, that was hardly a crime. 

Erica tilted her head thoughtfully. “I’ve had this thing for a long time, about visiting every state in the country. And… Australia. But not, like, wilderness, I just mean, like Sydney or something. I don’t feel like being carried off by a giant bird or a spider the size of my head trying to eat my face.”

Stiles laughed. “We could do that. Maybe we could drive through half of them on the way to Disney World and drive through the other half on the way back?” He suggested. “I mean, besides Hawaii. I don’t know if I want to go to Australia, but I’ll go there if you come with me to Poland.” 

Erica grinned widely. “Only if you buy me a fresh paczki from a bakery when we’re there.”

“I will.” Stiles stuck his hands in his pockets. “I need to start buying gloves in bulk and keeping a pair in every jacket and hoodie I own.” He smiled sheepishly. “Walter stole my last pair, to chew on. And I always lose them anyway.” 

“I’d offer to warm your hands up for you, but…” Erica looked around and sighed. “Patience,” she reminded herself. 

“Six months.” Stiles repeated. “I think it’ll get easier in time. It just feels like it’s forever, right now.” 

Erica took a deep breath. “Right. You’re right.” She murmured, and then let Walter lead the way as he tugged on the leash. “What did you find?” She asked the dog curiously with a smile, and tried to resist the urge to lean back against Stiles. 

Stiles put a hand on Erica’s shoulder, smiling at her. “Do you think about who might end up together?” He asked quietly. “I keep wondering who Allison’s soulmate is. And where he is.” 

Erica nodded thoughtfully. “I mean, I don’t wonder about Allison specifically, but I do think about who will end up with who. Like… Cora, you know? She deserves something good, _someone_ good in her life.”

Stiles grinned. “Yeah, she does. So does Scott. I worry for him, though. He’s happy with Malia, but it’s more likely that they won’t be soulmates, than the possibility that they are.” 

“What if they are?” Erica asked. “I mean, what are the actual chances that he’s dating someone that is actually meant to be with him?”

“It would be a miracle.” Stiles murmured. “Not impossible, I know. Still unlikely. Every day, millions of people wake up with names on their arms. Cora’s older sister has never even met her soulmate. I think it’s miraculous enough that you and I are in the same town. Having to travel halfway around the world to meet a complete stranger seems kind of frightening to me. Maybe that’s got a lot to do with it. Could you see yourself going to Japan to meet someone who might not even speak English?” 

Erica grimaced and shook her head. “God, no. I don’t think I’d be able to stand it.”

“Then that’s it.” Stiles nodded. “We’re together, not just because of what we want in life, but also because of what we don’t. Allison might end up with someone from France, since she speaks French. At least, a little bit. I think every soulmate pairing is a perfect match for a reason.” 

Erica grinned at him crookedly. “You think we’re perfect?” She crooned. 

“I think so, yeah.” Stiles smiled. “Maybe you don’t remember, but when you were a sophomore, I told you that I had given up on dating and that the universe was just going to have to throw someone at me, if I was meant to be with them. Someone or something out there likes me enough to have listened closely.” 

Erica smiled softly. “I’m glad they were.” She murmured. “And… I’m really glad they thought that I could make you happy.”

“Are you happy?” Stiles looked worried. “I’m sure there are a lot of people who hope their soulmate is famous or something. Are you really okay with it being me?” 

Erica stared at him, amused. “You heard the part where I told you that I’ve had a crush on you for the last, uh, forever, right? I’m happy. I’m unbelievably happy.”

Stiles’ expression changed to one of relief. “Okay.” He murmured. “I’m really tempted to kiss you again, but it’s going to have to wait at least ten more minutes.” 

“Hmm,” Erica murmured, smiling. “I can do ten minutes.”


	11. April 11, 2020

By April, Stiles was working thirty-five hours a week as a teacher, then another thirty hours at the coffee shop across the street from the school. He spent his weekends grading papers and completing any task that someone needed help with, since it just meant less time he would spend wanting to do things that would actually get him arrested. Every time he looked at the account he had set up at the bank, just for the vacation he was going to take with Erica, he knew that every spilled drink and grammar fail was worth it. 

Allison passed him and gently set a cup of tea off to the side on his desk, before she sat down next to him. “How’s it going?” She asked, nodding her head at the latest pile of papers he had. 

“I’m probably sending every paper off to a different publication.” Stiles smiled. “They’re all really good, and perfect for different demographics. Heather’s is more geared toward magazines like Seventeen, when I was looking for something meant for Newsweek or Psychology Today. But it’s fine. It doesn’t make her article any worse than the others. The fact that I’m certain they’ll all be published is a huge deal.” 

Allison huffed out a laugh. “That’s amazing. They really wanted this. I hope some of it was to at least make you proud.”

“I kind of hope the opposite.” Stiles murmured. “I’ve tried to encourage them to write for themselves, you know? If they haven’t gotten the message yet, maybe I’m doing something wrong? I am proud of all of them, though. I can’t believe they’re leaving me in about six weeks.” As he said it, Stiles looked terrified. “It’s not the first time I’ve had seniors leave, it’s just that this particular group is... I don’t know. They mean more. Not just Erica.” 

“Maybe it’s because we’ve connected with them more than we have with the students we’ve had before?” Allison suggested. “I’m going to miss them, too. I don’t know what I’m going to do when I won’t hear Jackson and Cora snarling at each other in class anymore.”

“It makes me sad already.” Stiles sighed. “The freshmen I have now couldn’t give less of a shit about anything. They come in, they sit quietly, they turn in their work and they leave when the bell rings. If I want to hear from them, I have to call on them. It’s like they’re robots.” 

“Maybe they are.” Allison mused. “I mean, maybe someone engineered a series of teenage robots that exist solely to test a teacher’s patience.”

“At this point, I’d believe anything.” Stiles laughed. “Is it July yet?” He gave Allison a wistful look. “I’m just waiting for you to get your soulmate, too.” 

Allison chewed on her lower lip for a moment, and then exhaled. “I have a confession to make.” She said, looking uncertain. “I… met someone a few months ago, when I was dating around. And, uh. Well, my birthday rolled around and I got this.” She bared her wrist and tugged the wide bracelet she wore over it off, looking down. She felt guilty as hell that she hadn’t said something to Stiles sooner, but she hadn’t wanted to take his attention away from Erica, and she really just wanted to keep all knowledge of her girlfriend to herself for awhile. 

Stiles frowned, but he looked down at Allison’s wrist. “Melissa McCall. Scott’s mom? Your soulmate is Scott’s mom, you’ve been with her for about a month, and you didn’t even tell me?” 

Allison sighed. “No, I didn’t tell you.” She confirmed. “I wanted to be with her for a little bit longer before I admitted who she was to you. She was new, and I wasn’t expecting her, but then… once the mark appeared, I just wanted to keep her to myself.” She wrapped the bracelet back around her wrist. “And you’ve been happy with Erica - I didn’t want to take any of your attention away from her.”

“I don’t really want to hear this right now.” Stiles went into his bedroom and shut the door. 

Allison took a deep breath and rubbed a hand over her face, her shoulders slumping. She reached for her phone, shaking, and started typing out a text. ‘I told him. He’s… not happy with me.’

‘It’s not for him to worry about.’ Melissa replied. 

‘Yeah, but I hate it when he’s mad at me. I live with him, I don’t want him to have to literally remove himself from a room because I’ve pissed him off.’

‘Why is he mad?’ Melissa asked a moment later. ‘What did he say?’

‘I told him that I’d wanted to keep you to myself, and that I didn’t want to take his attention away from things,’ Allison started, pausing before she added the last word. ‘He just said he didn’t want to hear it, and he went into his room and shut the door. He’s made comments about me finding my soulmate, and how much he wants me to find them, so… I figured that was the opportunity for me to tell him about you. It’s been a month since we’ve been together. I could’ve told him sooner.’

‘You weren’t ready.’ Melissa replied, then called Allison. “It’s been a little complicated for both of us. I wasn’t sure how to tell Scott I was dating, nevermind dating a teacher of his that he had a crush on for awhile. Stiles will come around.” 

Allison sniffed a little, quietly. “I hope so.” She murmured. “I guess Scott’s next on the list for reveals?” She asked.

“I told him a few weeks ago.” Melissa said gently. “I didn’t realize you hadn’t told Stiles until today.” 

Allison groaned and put her face in one hand. “I feel like the worst human being on the planet right now. I suck. No wonder he’s pissed at me.”

“You two have been friends for about four or five years now, haven’t you? He’ll forgive you.” Melissa insisted. “If he doesn’t, then he’s just being ridiculous.” 

Allison hummed, nodding. “Thank you.” She said quietly. “For, you know. Bearing with me when I have a meltdown or two.”

“Honey, I’m a nurse. I’ve seen worse than you could even consider.” Melissa teased. 

Allison smiled softly. “I’ll bet.” She murmured. “You’re the best. When are you off next?”

“Not for another three days.” Melissa laughed softly. “I miss you. Maybe now that he knows, he’ll want to come to a family dinner thing?” 

“I hope so.” Allison said softly. “I miss you, too. Maybe I’ll swing by and bring you lunch today or tomorrow? Which would be best?”

“Tomorrow.” Melissa smiled. “Go try to talk to him, all right? You won’t be happy until you do.” 

“You’re not wrong.” Allison laughed softly. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Mel.”

“See you.” Melissa repeated, hanging up. 

Allison took a deep breath and set her phone down before she hesitantly made her way over to Stiles’ door. Melissa was right - she wouldn’t be happy until she spoke with him, but she also knew that she was going to be unhappy so long as _he_ wouldn’t speak to _her_. She knocked gently on the door. “Stiles?” She asked softly.

Stiles opened his bedroom door just wide enough to look at Allison. He braced his right foot behind the door, not wanting her to try to come in. “You’ve known for weeks who your soulmate was, and you decided it wasn’t worth the trouble of telling me. I’ve been worried about you because it was taking so long, and it wasn’t. It’s only something we’ve both been talking about for years, wanting to find someone for ourselves and you did, and you couldn’t tell me? You didn’t _want_ to tell me.” 

“I wasn’t _ready_ to tell you.” Allison said softly. “The first thing I wanted to do was to tell you. But I was scared. I know you’re the last person who would judge me, but that wasn’t what I was scared of to begin with. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before. I…” She trailed off, and folded her arms around her waist. She ran Melissa’s words through her head, but she couldn’t see Stiles getting over this anytime soon, and she couldn’t think of any more to say that wouldn’t just make him angrier at her. She felt stuck, and her shoulders slumped with the sudden fear that maybe she’d pissed him off enough that he didn’t want her around anymore. “It was selfish. And I’ll get it if you would rather I make myself scarce for awhile.” She swallowed roughly. “Or… uh… something more permanent.”

“I just think that maybe you decided, for some reason, that I wasn’t worth telling. Because when you have good news, you share it.” Stiles blurted. “I don’t really want to talk to you, you’re right about that. But you do live here. So unless you wanna move out, don’t. I’m going for a walk.” He stepped back into the bedroom, grabbing one of his hoodies and calling out to Walter as he grabbed the dog’s leash. 

Allison didn’t answer after him, figuring she’d said plenty enough to anger him, and it felt compounded when even Walter trotted right past her without a second look. She faltered a little in the hallway, and then miserably made her way to her own room, leaving Stiles to it.

Stiles was halfway down the block with Walter before he spoke. “I’m not even mad at her.” He told the dog. “Okay, maybe a little bit. But mostly I'm just feeling like crap because she should have told me and I don’t think I matter that much to her. And that... that pisses me off. I had her move in, we got you, I tell her - fucking everything.” He sighed and crouched by Walter, shaking his head. “You have to be nice to her, though. When I leave in a few months, you’re stuck with her.” 

Walter grumbled, looking up at Stiles with baleful eyes before he lightly headbutted him in the chest, resting against him.

Stiles snorted. “I’m getting a kitten for you to be friends with. We’re going to name it Olivia.” 

Walter straightened and turned away from Stiles, looking unimpressed. He tugged lightly at his leash.

Stiles got up, laughing and started running. He was careful about his pace, not wanting to go too fast for the dog. “Come on, I’ll let you play in the park.” 

Walter trotted after him, his tongue lolling out of his mouth as he managed to pick up enough speed as he felt comfortable with. 

Stiles sprawled across a bench when they got to the park, reaching over to unfasten Walter’s leash. “Go play, but don’t run off too far.” He laughed, shaking his head. 

If Walter could have rolled his eyes, he would have. Instead, he huffed and backhanded Stiles’ shin with his front right paw before he headed off to join the other dogs at the park.

Stiles sat up, resting his hands between his knees as he kept an eye on Walter. He didn’t think that the older dog would get into trouble, but he knew that other dogs might not be as well-behaved. He sighed, trying to stop feeling dejected. 

“Hey, mopey.” Erica murmured, dropping down next to him with a small smile. She reached out to briefly squeeze his hand before letting go. “Before you ask, I wasn’t stalking you. I was legitimately just passing by, and I saw the back of your head.”

Stiles smiled crookedly at her. “I took Walter for a walk because I needed to get away from Allison.” He muttered. “She’s had her soulmate for like, a month. And she didn’t tell me until today. I mean, if it’d been like, my dad, I could see her holding off. But it’s not my dad. You know... I know I’ve got you and - and Cora and Scott are my friends, too. And Lydia. But Allison knows how important it is to me that I don’t lose people. All of my friends from high school and college bailed on me. Two entirely separate groups. They don’t even like my posts on facebook, we’re that distant. So she just goes and doesn’t tell me. And it wasn’t just not telling me, it was not telling me every time I saw her. Every day, at least three times a day, she decided she wasn’t going to tell me.” 

Erica pursed her lips, frowning. “That’s awful.” She said, frowning. “Why wouldn’t she tell you? I’ve met her, I know how she feels about you. I mean, it’s not how I feel about you, but I know she thinks the world of you, what the hell could possibly be her excuse for not telling you that she found her freaking soulmate?”

“I don’t know.” Stiles frowned. He was starting to think he might have an idea, but he didn’t want to say it in front of Erica. It was also possible that he was wrong, and he didn’t want to deal with that. “It’s Scott’s mom.” He snorted. “They’ve been dating this entire time. She got the mark on her birthday.” 

“When was her birthday?” Erica asked, furrowing her brows. “Wasn’t it in March? And - wait, Scott’s mom? She was, like, dating her before she ever even got her mark?”

“Yeah, I think so.” Stiles murmured. “If you were a little bit older, I’d just see about crashing at your place.” He teased. “God, I don’t want to go back there right now. But I kind of have to.” 

Erica bit her lip. “I could tell my parents that I’m staying the night at a friend’s,” she suggested. “If that would make it more bearable?

Stiles turned his head to stare at Erica. “Oh god. I want to say yes, but I don’t know if I can be around you for an entire night and not let it get somewhere. I guess that sounds worse than I meant it? Obviously, if you want me to back off, I will.” 

Erica smiled. “We could set up some rules.” She told him. “No, uh… penetration of any kind. If it ends up going somewhere, I mean. If it seems like it is. Just… hands. Touching. That’s what we’ll do. Okay? I can’t hold back, I already know it. I’ve been patient as hell already, but I’m no damn saint.”

Stiles grinned. “Then I guess you’re spending the night at my place.” He breathed out shakily. “I’m gonna go home and clean my room. I’ll see you soon? I'd kiss you, but we’re in public.” 

“You can make up for it when I’m with you.” Erica murmured. “I’m going to go pack a bag. I’ll be at your place soon.” She promised. 

Stiles put his hand on Erica’s arm, then stood up and whistled to get Walter’s attention. He clipped the leash back onto the dog’s collar and walked him home, his mind on two things: making sure Erica didn’t see how much of a slob he was and having a talk with Allison. He wasn’t so sure that talking to Allison was the best idea, since Erica would be coming over. But he couldn’t criticize his best friend for refusing to talk to him, then turn around and avoid having a conversation with her. It was important, even if he was wrong in what had occurred to him as a possibility. “Ally, get out here!” He called out, hanging Walter’s leash up after he removed it. 

Allison poked her head out of the doorway to her room before slowly making her way out toward Stiles. She was more than a little surprised when Walter leveled his entire body against her knee, and she reached down hesitantly to pet him. Her eyes lifted back up to Stiles, and she cleared her throat uncertainly. “Hi.”

“Do you like me?” Stiles blurted. He stared at her. “You got Melissa’s name on your arm and you didn’t say anything. We live together and we work together and we have a dog. Do you like me?” 

Allison went pale, an almost terrified look on her face. “Please don’t make me leave. I know nothing can happen, I don’t even want anything to happen now, I know how happy you are with Erica, I’m happy _for_ you.” She gulped, and a shaky attempt at a laugh escaped her throat. “I just… for awhile it sort of… felt like even if we didn’t have anyone else, we had each other. And even through all of the stupid dates I had with other people, I sort of clung to that. And then… Erica. Please - I’m happy for you both. I really am. I would never try to come between you, I wouldn’t.”

“She’s coming over here and spending the night.” Stiles murmured. He didn’t say it to hurt Allison, he was still reeling. He had expected her to tell him that he was stupid and there was some other, really obvious reason that he just hadn’t thought of, for why she hadn’t told him about Melissa. “Does Melissa know how you feel about me?” 

Allison sniffed. “I haven’t said it outright, but I think she suspects. She’s perceptive like that.” A tiny, fond smile crossed her face, and she looked down. “She knew Scott had a crush on both of us, long before Scott knew. Though… to be fair, Scott wasn’t exactly, um… subtle about it.” She took a deep breath. “We’re still… getting to know each other, feeling each other out. I only knew her as Scott’s mom at parent-teacher conferences before, and now she’s… everything. But I’ll talk to her about it tomorrow, when I see her.”

“I’m sorry.” Stiles felt guilty, even though he knew he wasn’t at fault. “I really hope things work out for the two of you. I really like Erica. It’s too soon for me to say any other L-words in relation to her, but I think I could be there pretty easily. I’m not saying it to hurt you. I just want you to understand that seeing her and knowing that the universe or whatever it is, something or someone caused me to be hers, and her to be mine... I’d seen her hundreds of times before that moment, but it felt so different. I don’t know if you felt like that when you saw me, at some point. I hope you felt it with Melissa already, or that you will soon enough.” He bit his lip. His room was still covered in dirty laundry, but he didn’t care about anything except talking to Allison. “When I saw you the first time, we were in high school and I had two thoughts. They were ‘she’s beautiful,’ and ‘she’d never look at me twice. Barely once.’ And I was right. We weren’t friends back then, Ally. But I wouldn’t have survived these last few years without you being my friend, you know? In a weird way, I wish I did have feelings for you. It would make things complicated, but also easier. So I don’t want you to bail on me, and I don’t want to stop talking to you, either. You’re my best friend.” 

Allison shook, crying softly as she wiped at her eyes. “You’re mine, too. You’re the best friend I’ve ever had.” She took a deep breath, wiping a few stray tear tracks off of her cheeks and sniffling. “I don’t know what I would have done if I didn’t have you with me now. You have absolutely nothing to be sorry for, you know. I wanted - I wanted to tell you so much. I wanted to tell you every day. About everything. I didn’t want to ruin what you had with Erica, because it was so new, and I didn’t want to ruin what we had because I’d rather have you in my life as my best friend than lose you because my feelings overwhelmed me. I’m sorry I wasn’t - I could’ve been more to you in high school. Not anything in particular, just… more. More friendly, more attentive. Something. Maybe we could’ve been friends then, maybe we could’ve been something else.” She smiled weakly. “Maybe there’s another universe somewhere, where we are.” She sighed. “What you described… when you saw Erica, really saw her. It _is_ what I felt for you, the very first time I walked into that school as a teacher and you smiled at me. And it’s what I feel for Melissa. I think it could be… serious L-words with her, too, easily and soon.” She studied him for a moment. “I’m sorry I kept it from you. I don’t think I’ve ever been sorrier for anything in my life. I know how you - I never meant to make you think -“ her breath caught. “Please don’t ever think that you don’t mean anything to me. Please. You mean everything. I couldn’t have a better family than you.”

Stiles hugged Allison, running a hand up and down her back. “If it helps, just remind yourself that I’m gross.” He teased. “I hate the idea that I made you cry, you know? I was going to spend time with Erica, but now I think we should all just pile up on the couch and watch a movie or something. I mean, she might not appreciate that very much, but then maybe she will? She set some ground rules for what we’re allowed to do tonight.” 

Allison, still sniffling, hugged Stiles back tightly, breathing out shakily against his shoulder. “I’m willing to do anything she wants to do.” She murmured. “She’s got a lot of confidence, and she’s smart, we’d be a lot worse off if we didn’t follow any suggestions she had.”

Stiles smiled. “Yeah.” He nodded. “I need to hide every dirty shirt and pair of underwear in my room. I know, I know. ‘That’s what a laundry basket is for, Stiles.’” He laughed. “I haven’t had time.” 

Allison giggled softly. “We’ll make time. Right now, before she gets here, we’ll… I don't know, grab a trash bag and hide all your icky boy stuff in it, and then shove it in your closet and hope to God she doesn’t get curious and decide to open it.”

“That ‘icky boy stuff’ can just get shoved in the washing machine.” Stiles laughed again, running down the hall to his room to gather his laundry. “I know I did a load of shirts about two weeks ago. Three weeks ago? It’s a good thing that my teacher clothes are different from my other clothes.” 

“Right?” Allison agreed, moving to help him. “If all else fails, wear black. I noticed that she pays particularly more attention to you when your arms are bared, so maybe a black t-shirt.”

Stiles blinked. “Really?” He started looking through his dresser, frowning when he realized his only clean black t-shirt was a little small. “I don’t think I’ve worn this since freshman year of college. It’s probably going to look like I'm trying too hard or something.” 

“And yet, her eyes are going to bug out of her head.” Allison laughed. “If not the t-shirt, then maybe one of those thin, long-sleeved ones with the sleeves pushed up to your elbows. Basically anything that draws Erica’s attention to your forearms is going to make her melt when she sees you.”

“My forearms?” Stiles shook his head. “Of all the things to notice...”

Allison smiled. “It’s a good thing to notice. You should hear what she thinks about your hands.” She paused, staring at him for a moment. “She doesn’t talk about you out loud in class. I should let you know that, first and foremost. She’s still of the opinion that even though it’s killing her to wait, she’d rather protect your integrity and your job by keeping what’s happening between you two a secret. Anything she _does_ think about you is usually said while she’s talking privately to me.”

“And you endure that while you...” Stiles trailed off. “How?! I know it makes me an asshole for saying it, but there’s no logical reason for you to have to put up with all of this shit for like, five years and then get crapped on while I’m with someone else. It’s not that I’m going to stop being with her and... I mean, you have Melissa and also I don’t really think it would be kind of me to try to force myself to feel a way that I don’t. But I’m offended on your behalf.” 

Allison’s eyes were gentle. “I talk about you with Erica because you’re my best friend, and she needs someone to talk to. I don’t think this is, like… my ‘in’ to being with you or something. Maybe logic has nothing to do with it, maybe it’s just me being a glutton for punishment or something.” She snorted. “But it doesn’t matter. I’ve got Melissa, I’ve got you, and I’m going to be there for Erica if she decides she needs me.” She shrugged.

Stiles changed his shirt, feeling a little awkward about it, now that he knew that Allison was interested in him. He had done that same thing in front of her dozens of times, though. He picked up his laundry again and carried it to the washing machine, adding laundry soap and starting the machine before he went back into his room to see if anything else needed to be cleaned up. 

Allison kicked a stray pair of socks under the bed, and then looked up at Stiles, raising her eyebrows. “It doesn’t look too terrible in here.” She told him. “It could be worse?”

“I have time to actually get those into the washer.” Stiles snorted. He picked up the socks. “I think I need to sweep and spray something in here that will make it smell less like... um, un-showered me.” 

Allison tugged at a loose strand of hair, thinking. “I’m pretty sure we’ve got one of those Glade oil scent things somewhere. The plug-in, I mean. Hang on, I’ll go look for it.” She murmured, and stepped out of Stiles’ room. She was back a few minutes later, waving one of the oil diffusers with a warmer in the air. “Got it.” She told him, and then knelt down to plug it into an outlet. “Okay. It shouldn’t take long to start circulating in your room.”

“Thank you.” Stiles had taken the time to add to the laundry in the washer and make his bed with clean sheets and a different blanket. He bit his lip. “Is she taking longer than she should have? She’s not here, maybe she’s not coming?” 

“She’s coming,” Allison told him. “Of course she’s coming, she wouldn’t tell you that she’s going to be here and then not show up.” She assured him. “She has parents that are still her primary caretakers, sweetie, they probably waylaid her just because they could.”

“Yeah, I just worry that she’s going to wake up some morning and realize I’m not worth this.” Stiles admitted. 

Allison bit her lower lip, and then breathed out slowly. “You’re worth it. You’re always worth it.” She said quietly, and then shifted awkwardly before she looked up at the knock on the door. “She’s here,” she murmured, and stepped out of the room. “I’ll go let her in.”

Stiles made a face at himself and sat down on the edge of the bed, not sure what else to do. He thought about ordering dinner, but he wasn’t sure what Erica wanted. 

Erica stepped into the room, giving him a small smile and carrying her bag at her side. “Hi.” She murmured, and moved right to him, dropping the bag at the foot of the bed before climbing into his lap. “Sorry I’m late. I, uh…” She flushed a little. “I was trying to decide how much and how little to wear.”

Stiles smiled, resting his hands on her waist. “I was thinking about that, too. If you don’t want to do anything below the waist, maybe we should just leave clothes on that half of our bodies?” 

Erica leaned in to kiss him softly. “How about we start off slow?” She asked, and settled her hands on his chest. “Put your hands on me.”

Stiles moved his hands up Erica’s sides, smiling at her. “Like this?” He asked quietly. “I don’t want to do anything you’re not ready for.” 

“I’m ready for a lot,” Erica laughed. “But taking it slow, not doing anything too heavy until we’re really in the clear… that’s important to me. Keeping you safe, that’s important to me.”

Stiles leaned in to kiss Erica. “I think we’re in the clear here, you know? Unless you record it, nobody’s going to say shit. But yeah, I don’t want you to get caught being here with me. So maybe we just can’t be loud.” 

Erica giggled against his lips, kissing him back softly. “You think we can be quiet?” She teased. “Well, I can try.”

“Good.” Stiles teased, wrapping an arm around her back and moving her to the mattress as he leaned down to kiss her again. “I heard that you have a thing about my arms.” He laughed. “Why?” 

Erica ran a hand up one of his arms and grinned as she kissed him back, locking one leg behind his knee. “Because they look _strong_ ,” she told him. “And strength is sexy as hell.”

“I just don’t want you to get confused.” Stiles grinned. “I’m a nerd. I always have been.” 

Erica laughed. “Oh, guilty as charged.” She hummed. “I absolutely don’t want to get confused. I don’t think I will.” She shrugged, 

“Which Disney movie is your favorite?” Stiles made a face. “I know this isn’t the best time to ask, but I do want to know everything about you and it just occurred to me to ask.” 

Erica didn’t hesitate. “The Lion King,” she murmured, dropping kisses to his jaw. “What’s yours?”

“I don’t think I have a particular favorite.” Stiles admitted, turning his head to kiss her lips. “I don’t like Goofy, though. That laugh is annoying as hell.” 

“Ugh. You’re not wrong.” Erica snorted, lightly catching his lips with hers and smiling. “My turn. What’s your favorite band? Alternately, what is your favorite type of music?”

“I like Alkaline Trio.” Stiles murmured. “I don’t know if they’re really my favorite, exactly. But I like them enough to own more than one of their cds. And now that I’ve made myself sound ancient... uh, I like rock, obviously. And pop.”

Erica giggled against his shoulder, and then turned her face to press against his neck. “Me too. But you’re so not ancient.”

“I’m fourteen years older than you.” Stiles snorted. “When you were born, I was getting ready to start going to that high school you’re about to graduate from.”

“Yeah, and? It doesn’t mean you’re ‘ancient’. You’re… ‘seasoned.’” Erica grinned. “Well-seasoned.”

Stiles laughed. “Thanks.” He kissed her again. “That makes me feel so much better.” 

“It should.” Erica nodded, squirming around and twisting her arms around him. “I get to be with someone with life experience that I know compliments me well, and he’s hot as hell, age be damned. Your age _helps_ , even. Makes you sexier.”

Stiles’ lips quirked up and he stared at Erica for a few seconds. “Talk like that isn’t making it easier to restrain myself.” 

“Oops.” Erica grinned playfully.

“Hmm, devious.” Stiles teased. “If we do this, though, you’re going to have to deny all of it. If it becomes an issue.” 

Erica kissed him lightly. “My lips are sealed.” She murmured, and then kissed his cheek before moving down to his jaw.

Stiles licked his lips, then moved to kiss Erica’s neck. He slid a hand under the hem of her shirt, but didn’t move it any higher than her waist. 

Erica reacted immediately, exhaling loudly and arching up against him. She moaned and clutched at him with one hand, and let her head fall to the side to bare her neck.

Stiles groaned and moved his hand up to touch Erica’s breast. All of the other things that had been on his mind went away, and he focused on making sure she felt good. 

Erica moaned softly, her eyes fluttering shut. Her fingers stroked at the hair at the nape of Stiles’ neck, and she tilted her head down again, her lips searching for his.


End file.
